Context Sensitive
by ScratchyApples
Summary: A girl is born when all the world expected a boy, a tragedy was averted, a family saved and a hero presumed dead before their time. But when has the story ever been that simple?
1. Prologue – To forge a legend

**Introduction**

Hello! What you are about to read is my first real attempt at long fiction so expect a little inexperience on my part. I began writing this as mostly an exercise in writing and I really hope to continue it to its logical conclusion. By the way I'm writing this in UK English so spelling will be a little different here and there.

As for the story itself well it's a female Harry Potter story, if you didn't get that from the summary, so consider yourselves warned. It'll focus on the friendship between the three main characters and the adventures they go on, mostly a retelling of the books/movies but of course with original twists throughout. I should note that I haven't read the books in a long time so what happened in the books and what happened in the movies have blurred together, so expect a bizarre amalgam of the two.

Any romantic aspect to this story will be a subplot and a long time off, especially as I don't really know how I want to approach it and who might be involved. However I am leaning towards femslash involving the main characters at this moment, so again warning! If you want a detailed explanation why please see my notes at the bottom.

Anyway if you feel like reviewing please do so; any and all feedback is what I'm here for. If you do though please don't sugar coat things, I'm a big person and I can take it I promise.

**Update 23/02/2014 -**Misspelled Lily. Thanks to Harmonian Shinobi for pointing that out.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own or in any way claim to own the Harry Potter franchise and its related material. All rights belong to the respective parties that actually do own it so please don't sue.

* * *

**Prologue – To forge a legend...**

A soft pop disturbed the silent night as a ripple in the air resolved into a figure wrapped in a voluminous black cloak. The figure inhaled the cool night air sharply, gathering its bearings before turning its attention to the aging townhouse before it. Warm light filtering through windows illuminated the figure, casting an imposing shadow onto the street.

Gaunt hands lowered the hood hiding their face, revealing handsome aristocratic features and cold blue eyes that were topped by dark wavy hair that was cut short. Here then stood Lord Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard to have ever lived, amongst countless other titles just as sinister, and the cause of the first great wizarding war to touch England's shores. Drawing his wand the Dark Lord stalked towards the house, face twisted into a triumphant smirk. Finally his prey was within sight.

A negligent wave of his wand brought down the wards enveloping the home in a shower of sparks, raising new ones in their place. A second gesture blew the front door off its hinge, the loud boom alerting the inhabitants of the danger fast approaching.

Tonight he would seal his immortality.

* * *

In the upstairs nursery the wave of residual magic washed over Lily Potter, who instinctively tightened her arms around the baby she held. Her fiery red hair fell over her shoulder tickling the child and drawing forth a disgruntled cry. Something was horribly wrong. She knew she had to move, her baby's life was at stake, but knowing and doing are very different things.

The atrocities committed by dark wizards during the war played through her mind, images of murder and mutilation filling in exactly what would happen to them if she didn't do something. Fear and adrenaline warred for control over her body, her eyes flicking erratically across the room searching in vain for her wand while her body remained rooted in place.

Before either could claim victory the door to the nursery burst open as James Potter rushed in, wand drawn and ready.

"Lils it's him, you need to run!" he shouted breathlessly, a myriad of emotions playing over his face, "Take the baby and run. I'll try and distract him."

Although tension strained his voice, the seemingly heroic words broke through her panicked daze. Her mind frantically searched for escape and quickly faltered, the portkey and fireplace were downstairs, far beyond their reach, and the oppressive grip of foreign wards crushed her hopes of disapparting. Cold logic reigned in her dread; no matter what they tried she knew there would be no escape. With that clarity achieved her husband's words at last ticked over, her emotions crystallized into fury, crushing her despair and spitting out the broken remains as a biting invective.

"James Potter! Off all the stupid, inane... there is no way in hell I am leaving you to die," she spat, her eyes ablaze.

"Lily please... I can hold him for a little while. Sirius and the other must have felt the wards go down; they'll be here in a bit to back me up. I can't... I just can't-"

The pleading tone in his words was unmistakeable and desperate, his wand trembling in his hand. A spike of guilt drove through the witch at having caused her husband pain but she knew better than to give into it. All she could do was harden her resolve.

"I know James, I know," she replied softly, her words laced with sorrow and understanding, cracking slightly under the tension. "But there's nowhere to run, he has us trapped here; all we can do is protect our baby."

Lily's heart broke as the last vestiges of hope drained from her husband's eyes, replaced with grim resignation, evidently having reached the same conclusion she had. He reached over and took her hand in his, squeezing hard, conveying all he felt in that final gesture.

"I- Together then, for Alex... I love you"

"I-" she tried to reply only to be cut off by the sound of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs.

They turned hastily to the door, James raising his wand to face whatever was coming while a quick locking charm sealed the door. A whole eternity seemed to pass between each step, the protesting creak of floorboards almost deafening. With each moment and every step their will crumbled a little more only to be bolstered again by a squeeze of their hands or a stolen glance at the precious burden that Lily bore. Finally it was all they could do to take in one last deep breath as the footsteps fell silent at the door.

* * *

The Dark Lord took a moment to savour the tension leaking from the room before him. The unmistakeable smell of terror and the last defiant glimmer of hope fading away. It was nothing short of beautiful he thought, engraining the memory amongst his other great triumphs. Sensing that the moment had arrived he thrust his wand forward, blasting the door open to reveal his quarry wand aimed at his head, incandescent red spellfire already hurtling towards him.

It was with almost indifferent grace that the Dark Lord batted away the stunner and retaliating, throwing his attacker against the wall with a sickening crunch. The disturbance woke the baby in Lily's arms, who shrill cry accompanied the witch's own at the sight of her unconscious husband. He contemplated finishing off the fallen wizard but thought better of it. It would be far more entertaining to make him watch as he tortured his mudblood whore before finally gracing his broken soul with death, besides he came here on business. With that pleasing thought in mind he turned towards the witch who was futilely attempting to shield the baby from him.

"Give me the child and you may yet live passed dawn," he hissed, after all a dead mudblood was no fun to torture.

Unsurprisingly however the redhead glared defiantly back, her shoulders pulling in tighter, refusing to budge. Snape had always said Lily Potter, or Evans as he insisted on calling her, was a stubborn one. But not to matter, the wilful ones were always more fun to break.

"You can go back to whatever pit spawned you, bastard," she spat, fighting to reign in her trembling body. She was under no illusions about what was going to happen to her, a fact Voldemort knew all too well, but the vehemence behind her words almost took the dark wizard aback. "You're not touching my child."

He sighed at such a predictable response. Why did they never give in? Did they not realise how pointless their petty defiance was? Moreover the incessant caterwauling from the child refused to cease, no matter how much pressure he exuded on the child's mind. Frustration building the Dark Lord dispensed with subtlety and levelled his wand at the witch.

"So be it then, I'll just have to taunt your husband with the news of your demise instead," he hissed, dangerous undertones clear at losing out on his fun.

Lily knew what was coming; she could feel the magic building in the air until it was almost palpable. As her muscles tightened in anticipation her emotions ran away from her. Regret for never being able to watch her baby grow up, the sorrow of losing the love of her life and the fear of what was to come after death. Yet looking down at the face of her child she felt a calm settle over her, knowing that she would go down protecting the most precious thing in her life.

"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort croaked out, pushing all of his hatred into the words, willing his magic onwards to snuff out the woman's life.

A sickly green light pooled at the tip of his wand, pulsating and screeching an unholy requiem for its victims. From Voldemort's perspective it seemed to pause ponderously as if taking in its surroundings before lancing out towards his target, a bolt of verdant lightning.

Almost immediately he felt something off, a stirring in the air, the magicks fuelling the killing curse seemed to ebb as if pulled away by some vacuum. He searched frantically for whatever was causing the disturbance, observing the very magic in the air in ways few other mortal ever had.

What he found alarmed him greatly. A halo of magic appeared to surround the witch before him. No! His jaw nearly hit the floor as he noticed that this mysterious spell came from the child and not the mother. He had barely begun to question his own sanity, after all this child was barely a year old, when he noticed something else.

The halo was growing in size and intensity, glowing with such fire that the Dark Lord was forced to shield his eyes. The magic swirled and pulsed building to a crescendo before exploding outwards, throwing bodies around like ragdolls. A deafening crump followed the walls of the nursery blasting outwards, tearing out a large chunk of the roof with it.

* * *

James Potter woke to an acrid stench invading his nostrils and feeling like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his entire body, his every breath ragged and hard fought. He lay there for what felt like several minutes, mentally taking stock of his wounds. His limbs felt like jelly and he guessed several of his ribs were broken courtesy of his breathing troubles. Finally he forced his eyes open and blinking his way through the blurriness took in his situation. What he saw sent a spike of panic through his mind, the nursery was in ruins, debris was littered everywhere and his wife lay in a heap beside an enormous hole where the outer wall once stood. His only relief was that Voldemort appeared to be gone, however at that point he could hardly care less how that came to be.

Gulping in air James propped himself up on his arms, and with muscles protesting at the abuse they had taken already slowly stood up. Dizziness threatened to knock him back to the ground as he stumbled towards his wife, nearly collapsing as he reached her crumpled form. Tentatively he reached out to touch her shoulder, shaking her gently in hopes of waking her feeling the pit in his stomach grow as he got no response.

"Lils... Lily please," he begged, his voice hoarse from his injuries, growing increasingly frantic with every second.

Just as he began to lose his grip on his panicking mind a piercing wail came from the bundle his wife still clutched to her chest. He started forwards to check on his child when with a gasping breathe Lily jerked into consciousness, arms flailing wildly at some imaginary attacker.

"Lily wait, it's me James," he soothed, gently drawing her into his arms. "It's safe, Voldemort's gone."

It took several moments for her to calm enough to make sense of what was around her, eyes meeting the concerned gaze of her husband. As his words at last seemed to register she allowed herself to relax into his arms and remembered the crying baby she held. Rocking the bundle slowly the mother lulled the infant back to its slumber, finally allowing her to fully collect herself.

Seeing the last of the panic drain from his wife's eyes he focused on the precious charge she held. Pulling aside the blankets that swathed the baby he gasped as he caught sight of the bloody scar etched onto the tender skin beneath a dark fringe. His gasp caught the attention of his wife who nearly lapsed back into her frenzy. Reacting quickly James wiped the scar clean with the blankets and was relieved to find the scar already scabbing over, a fact that also served to settle his wife down. With the crisis averted the mystery of how the scar got there in the first place and what exactly had transpired rose to the fore.

"Lily... what happened?"

A thoughtful look crossed her emerald eyes, brows furrowing as she grimaced at the blanks her mind was drawing.

"I-I don't... One minute th-the Killing Curse... was about to... Oh god, he was about to kill the both of us. A-a-and then Alex... became so warm and a flash... and then nothing..."

"Nothing? As in you didn't see or can't remember?"

"I think I blacked out after the flash but I can't remember. What could this mean James?"

He was at a total loss, never having heard of someone surviving the Killing Curse, let alone seemingly destroying the one who had cast it. Yet somehow his child, barely a year old, had done just that. All he could do was shrug in response.

With that train of thought shelved for now Lily's mind turned to darker thoughts, namely how had the Dark Lord found them? The house and their location were supposed to be under the Fidelius Charm, one cast by Dumbledore himself, and thus the secret was touted to be safer than Gringotts itself. The only weakness to the charm was the secret keeper... It was at this point that her thoughts came to a screaming halt. She wanted -no needed to be wrong, her husband would be devastated otherwise.

"What I want to know is how the hell that slimy bastard found us," James muttered, eyes darting about as if looking for clues amongst the rubble. "I thought we were supposed to be under the 'great' Fidelius?"

Lily felt her heart sink knowing that she had to tell James her suspicions, their lives may still depend on it. Forcing her mouth to cooperate she cautiously began to relate her suspicions.

"James... I-I think Peter..." she trailed off, faltering as she saw the understanding blossom in his eyes.

"No, there's no way he could... He was one of us! A Marauder. He was at our wedding, when we named our baby... he... Oh god, how the hell didn't I..."

With each word his conviction dimmed, memories rose unbidden of how his friend had grown distant, furtive, as the war had dragged on, disappearing for weeks. He had claimed he was on missions, scouting or some such, and they never had a reason to doubt his word. Communication between members of the Order of the Phoenix, created to fight the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters, had grown strained and rare as members were killed and secrets compromised, so it was not unusual for them to know nothing about each other's assignments. At this realisation anger swiftly replaced his denial, his hands fisting tightly until they began to tremble.

"James... I-"

"No. If that rat betrayed us, then he's dead to me."

Lily pressed her back into her husband's embrace, hoping to comfort him and in turn drawing strength from his warmth. Eventually as she felt the shaking diminish and his body seemed to deflate she thought about their next move. She knew that the most obvious answer would be to wait until the Order arrived, undoubtedly with the Aurors in tow. But would their enemies expect that? Perhaps they had planned this as an ambush, drawing the Order out with convenient bait and now Death Eaters were ready to pounce on a distracted foe. Yet try as she might the thought that a close friend had betrayed them always came back to the forefront. If Peter could betray them, who could they really trust?

There was something going on that neither knew about, something that had driven the urgency they had felt from the Dark Lord. It must be something that had threatened him directly for the attack was in hindsight extremely poorly planned, with few contingencies she could think of. And now they did not know who amongst their friends they could trust.

However in addition to this would be the reaction from the world if news of this got out. The adulations and celebrity aside the Death Eaters and their sympathizers would look for any opportunity to finish what the Dark Lord had tried. They would forever have targets painted on their back and no idea if the person they passed in the street would turn around and take aim. Their child would never be safe, never have the life they deserved, always hunted. Before she could complete her train of thought James spoke bringing her back to reality.

"Lily... What do we do now?" he asked, barely whispering, having evidently followed a similar train of thought. "Do we wait for the others?"

She hesitated a moment before expressing her misgivings and was both gratified and depressed to find that her husband had had similar concerns. Their choice then was clear, they would have to disappear and let the world believe that on this day a family had died stopping the greatest threat the wizarding world had ever seen. They would leave behind all of their friends and secret their child away.

"Where can we go?" asked Lily. "Everywhere in magical England may be compromised."

"What about my Grandparents old manor? Everyone thinks that it burnt down at the start of the war, it's even in a muggle town," replied James, frowning in thought.

"It's certainly insulated enough and if I remember right we stashed some money there."

Another thought occurred to Lily. "Wait what about Gringotts; surely they'll know we are still alive? Won't they tell everyone?"

James considered this for a moment, going over everything he knew about the goblins and the agreements they had with the Potters.

"No we should be safe, we all signed a confidentiality agreement when we opened accounts there. They'll be closed mouthed about their customers even if the Minister for Magic inquires."

With that the two lapsed into silence, taking in the momentous decision they were about to make. Looking into the future brought one final hurdle to the witch's attention.

"We can't keep our baby locked away for every though James. One day they'll want to see the world and there will be nothing we can do to stop a child of ours from exploring. There's also Hogwarts..." she trailed off.

Indeed James could see how that could pose a serious threat. The way the school for magic and the Ministry kept track of new students was automatic and enormously powerful. In just under 10 years time the magicks that lay over all of England would detect a new student was ready to take their place in Scotland. Ultimately it meant that in 10 years time their ruse would fall apart.

"It's something we'll just have to prepare ourselves for and Hogwarts is probably the safest place in the world. What kind of life would our child have without an education?"

"Although I certainly won't be pleased if they bring someone 'special' home," he added, trying to lighten the heavy mood that had descended over them.

Despite it all Lily could do nothing to stop her lips from quirking up at her husband's silliness. Nodding slightly in acquiescence to the plan she took one last look around and much to her chagrin found her wand lying in a pile of debris. Handing the baby to James she walked over to pick it up, taking a moment to check for any damage it may have sustained before pocketing it with a bemused shake of her head, the stupid thing was never where she wanted it.

"We're really doing this, aren't we?" she asked, receiving a nod in reply. Taking a deep breath she offered her hand, pulling James to his feet.

"Shall we then?"

"Of course my lady," James replied, sketching out a shallow bow that was ruined by the ball of sheets he carried.

Before she could change her mind again Lily raised her wand. A turn of her feet later the three vanished with a soft pop, leaving the house devoid of human life.

* * *

By the time the Order arrived, along with a sizeable Auror company as predicted, the house was long deserted. Their investigation turned up a scorched scrap of black cloth and some suspicious looking ash, but nothing more. However the same could not be said once Dumbledore cast a revealing charm over the house. The crowd watched the Potters confront He Who Must Not Be Named, their horror quickly turning to awe as they saw the most feared wizard to have ever lived be defeated by a mere child.

As the magic collapsed, leaving the fate of the Potters a mystery, hushed whispers rippled through the crowd, slowly growing to a roar of cheers as the knowledge that the war was over settled in. By the time order was re-established and the order given to stay silent about the night's revelations, midnight had long since passed.

The small army dispersed in various directions, some eager to be home to celebrate, others returned to duty while the Ministry officials went to prepare an address to the public. Come the morning they would announce the fall of the Dark Lord and the sacrifice of the Potters, a message of hope and celebration tempered with sorrow.

However as legends are want to do word began to spread almost from the get go, passed on as whispered rumours, quick notes scribbled on spare parchment or the drunken revelry of the indiscreet. Word soon reached the ear of the Daily Prophet, the newspaper that had cornered the news; unsurprisingly they leapt on the story.

So it was that by the morning as the Ministry prepared to announce victory over the Wizarding Wireless a new copy of the Prophet was already in the homes of almost every witch and wizard in the nation, the story emblazoned across the front page.

In that story the Prophet would coin a term that would be forever etched into the Wizarding World, for they told the tragic story of the Girl Who Won.

* * *

10 Years Later

Minerva McGonagall's days as deputy headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were more often than not dull. Granted that every so often she would have to deal with some troublemakers, namely the second year Weasley twins, but that paled in comparison to the time she spent dealing with paperwork. Today's paperwork however she did not mind nearly so much, for today she had noticed a new acceptance letter sealed in a crisp white envelope sitting in the ever growing pile on her desk.

It was always a pleasure to see such a letter for it meant another addition to their small but rich world, a new mind ready to seek out the mysteries of the world. As she reached for the envelope, eager to see who it was that would soon be attending, her heart skipped a beat at what she saw. For printed on the envelope in flowing cursive was an impossible name.

Alexandria Potter.

* * *

**A/N:**

Add 3 cups of tripe, 5kg of misunderstanding and a grain of truth. Mix well.

As for why I am inclined towards femslash well it is sort of complicated. Since the main characters are female the norm would have them paired with one of the male characters. However the characters I am trying to portray will be very strong willed and highly intelligent women with a sense of adventure. As such none of the male characters that are remotely close to them in age feel like good partners for them, with any relationship I shoehorn in lacking the equality that makes a good relationship. Moreover I honestly am not that fond of many of the male characters personalities, as many i.e. Ron and most of the Gryffindors being lazy and/or deliberately obtuse at times.

With that in mind it sort of makes sense for a very close friendship to develop into something a little more don't you think?

Anyway those are just thoughts I have right now, it may and probably will change as I go along.

Sorry for the wall of text AN.


	2. Chapter 1 – A world to see

**Chapter 1 – A world to see**

It was a cool autumn day at King's Cross Station in central London, one that on the surface seemed no different than any other. Throngs of people hurried from platform to platform in the morning rush, snippets of conversation barely audible over the general hubbub. An observant person however, with perhaps a little more sensitivity to the magical, might notice an unusual occurrence; an unusually large number of teenagers seemed to be passing through. A closer glance would reveal an equally strange menagerie of pets, ranging from cats to owls and even the odd toad. Most intriguing of all was that they seemed to be going in the same general direction.

The truly inquisitive observer might follow them, wondering what could possibly draw such an ensemble to a train station of all things. But as they approached Platform 9 they would find themselves suddenly losing interest, their attention redirected to more pressing business. After all it was probably just a school trip or maybe a camp.

It was into this organised chaos that Alexandria, Alex thank you very much, Potter stepped, pushing a cart laden with an oversized wooden trunk and a caged owl. She was of slightly above average height with short and messy black hair contrasting sharply with fair skin and fiery green eyes. The Witch was dressed to blend in with the muggle surroundings, a blue and white striped long sleeved shirt and a pair of dark jeans. Excitement bubbled over as she scanned the crowd, curious gaze flitting between sights as if trying to etch every last detail into memory.

And who could blame her, for she was taking her first steps into the magical world after being hidden away for most of her life. Alex knew the story of why her parents had hid, she had listened to countless lectures about the dangers that waited out there, heck she even agreed with their decision. Yet in spite of all this her Marauder sense, something her mother blamed entirely on her father, had given her an irresistible itch to see whatever was out there and so she leapt at the chance to attend Hogwarts. As much as she loved her family and the Muggle world, this was a part of her heritage; this was an opportunity to explore the world at her own pace.

Despite this she couldn't help but feel slightly nervous, she had never been alone in magical England before, previously always accompanied by her parents. She took a moment to steady herself before searching for her destination. Spotting Platform 9 in the distance she oriented the cart in the right direction before pushing off, her thoughts returning to her childhood.

Her parents had made sure that she learned a little about magic as she grew up, enough certainly to put her ahead of most of her year mates. They had said that most people with a magical background were generally taught the practical basics at home, while the theory would be left to Hogwarts, a tactic her parents had also adopted.

However Alex's interests had always been drawn to the theoretical, specifically things that had yet to be done by magic. She had spent many a night ensconced in her family's library reading tales of great wizards and witches, tomes of sundry spells and most importantly discussions on experimental magical theory. Most of it went way over her head, but the ideas had entranced her and as she grew up she dreamed of one day solving the greatest mysteries of magic. She was drawn out of her reverie when she almost bumped into a group of eight standing between Platforms 9 and 10, confused looks on their faces.

Three were teenagers, around her age, while the other five were noticeably older, the youngest likely into their thirties. Noticing their distinctly modern style of dress that contrasted heavily with the old fashioned trunks and the odd pets they possessed she deduced that they were Muggle-borns and their parents. Perhaps they didn't know where to find the platform? The location of portal into Platform 9¾ was a little arcane and it would explain their confused looks. Though why they weren't given better directions by whoever had first explained things to them was worrisome.

"Umm... excuse me but do you need any help?" she asked hesitantly, unsure of how well she had assessed the situation. It certainly wouldn't do to expose the magical world to some unrelated Muggles.

"You wouldn't happen to be... ah... a Witch, would you?" one of the older women inquired, startled by the sudden appearance of the girl. She had chestnut coloured hair that hung in long waves down to her shoulders framing an attractive face and deep brown eyes that wavered uncertainly.

Having been proved right Alex gave the woman a small smile while nodding in response, hoping to reassure the rather uncomfortable group. A good first impression of magical kind would go a long way towards easing their transition into the new world. She definitely sympathized with these people; they were entering totally unknown and unknowable territory where anything they could imagine could happen. She had grown up around magic and still felt nervous at the prospect of joining the magical world, what then must it feel like to go into this entirely blind?

"You're looking for the platform then?"

"Yes, we've been looking for what seems like forever," the woman replied, a relieved smile replacing her previously uncertainty.

"Right follow me then," she cheered, leading the group off towards a nearby wall that sat in between two parked trains.

At first glance there seemed to be nothing remarkable about it, made of worn brick that had been discoloured over the ages, probably a remnant of the old station left over from before the renovations. Strangely there was a large amount of skid marks, which could only have come from baggage carts, all of them pointing towards and disappearing at its base. Anyone that had experience with magic on the other hand could sense the portal that lay within it from a long way away, as it hummed with energy and blurred the wall around it.

"Ok here we are then, just walk straight at the wall and don't stop. You'll be through in no time, or at least that's what my Dad said."

Of course such an outlandish statement was received with dubious looks from her charges and so Alex offered to demonstrate, pushing her cart resolutely towards the wall all the while refusing to let the little niggling of doubt slow her. A small part of her almost expected to, as her Godfather would put it 'arrest her momentum vigorously' at the wall but she simply passed through with no resistance. All she had felt was a slight tingling across her skin, while pitch darkness kept her from seeing what was happening around her before it faded into light just as she exited onto the other side.

Alex couldn't help but be carried away by the atmosphere as she was greeted on the other side by an anachronistic mishmash of sights and sound. People dressed as though the 1500's had never passed mingled with a train straight out of the steam age while the smell of burning coal permeated the air, accompanied by the oddly fitting scent of parchment and ink. Above it all was the sound of hundreds of teenagers, eager to catch up with friend and foe alike after months of separation. Every so often voices boomed over the din announcing the time to departure and directing students towards luggage compartments.

At the centre of it all was an old fashioned steam engine, painted seemingly yesterday in glossy black and red, Hogwarts Express emblazoned at the front in brass metalwork. Engineers clamoured over the machine, conducting last minute checkups and repairs, students flowing in an out of compartments and parents giving their final send offs.

Several moments passed before she could shake her head, clearing away the daze. Recalling why she was here she pushed her cart out of the way of the barrier before strolling back through the portal.

Back in the Muggle world the group gaped as they watched the girl walk through a solid wall and vanish. A few of the parents prodded the wall experimentally, trying to find out how it worked though all they got for it was a few sore fingers. Just as they began to wonder whether they had been abandoned Alex's head peaked out of the wall, peering around to see if everyone was still together. More than a few hearts found themselves in mouths at the sight of a disembodied head seemingly embedded into a wall and it was quite some task to calm them down. With all of the distractions gone and having apologised for getting distracted, all that was left was to guide the newly minted magical through the portal.

"Remember just walk straight forward, pick up some speed if you want. Everything will go dark and you might feel a little tingly but it'll go away."

"Oh and you'll have to say your goodbyes here, I was told Muggles can't get through the barrier."

After a few tearful moments and a little trepidation the Muggle-borns were soon through the portal and gaping at what they saw. With her duty done wanderlust set in, and the urge to poke around some more became overwhelming. Directing her charges towards the luggage compartments she parted ways with them to go and explore, wishing them luck and receiving grateful thanks from all around in return.

Seconds blurred into hours for the Witch as she snuck into the locomotive, puzzling at the purpose of the various knobs and gauges, before being chased out by a disgruntled engineer. Moving on she found her way to a notice board tucked in a corner, it appeared to have been long forgotten as the newspaper clippings and ads were dated to well over thirteen years ago. It was a fascinating glimpse into the past however; with stories about the rising Pureblood movement and He Who Must Not Be Named were intermingled with the announcement that Muggles had invented flight, though amusingly that particular article was from 1969. Soon enough the train whistled signalling ten minutes to departure, bringing an end to her little adventure, and with excitement building she boarded the nearest car.

* * *

Hermione Granger was a girl of average height, with a bushy mane of chestnut coloured hair and expressive brown eyes. To most people who knew her family well she was the spitting image of her mother, though she liked to think she had some of her father in her as well. She was usually a very calm and understanding individual and under normal circumstances preferred to be polite, accommodating even, if confronted. It would make a terrible impression on her peers after all if she were to resort to a shouting match in the middle of the train. It seemed fate would have it otherwise, for on this day Hermione Granger would have her first encounter with the magical world's less pleasant side.

The Hogwarts express had just departed from London, steaming swiftly to its destination somewhere in Scotland. For all of her intellect Hermione had never felt at ease around others and as such she had had difficulty finding a cabin to settle down. Every one she had looked into had been occupied, often by more than one person, and she wasn't comfortable enough to ask if she could join them. In the end she found herself near the opposite end of the train she had come from, dragging her trunk with her as best she could.

As she continued along the length of the train she glanced into another door briefly, already moving on, having given up hope of finding her own room. Just as she was turning back around she was flung backwards, landing painfully on her rear while a trio of snickers accompanied her pained groan.

"Well what do we have here, eh?" a voice demanded, dripping with smug self-satisfaction.

Hermione had never liked the narcissistic type and though she hated jumping to conclusions she had a bad feeling she wasn't going to like whoever this was.

"Dunno boss, I think it's a girl," another voice stated thickly.

Great, some dim witted lackey, exactly what she needed to make her day perfect.

"Of course it's a girl you idiot," Smug Voice retorted. "Now I believe I asked you a question."

By now Hermione had righted herself and looked up to find the one she presumed was Smug Voice eyeing her as if she were some unsightly blemish he had just found. If she was feeling charitable she would describe the blond who was smirking down at her as having aristocratic features, though clearly they were someone who spent far too much time looking at a mirror what with all the gel and plucked eyebrows. Maliciously amused grey eyes and designer robes completing the 'better than you' attitude the boy exuded. Two large boys stood behind the blond, their forgettably similar faces blank of much else besides faint amusement. Oh Joy! Two lackeys. Best to get this over with then.

"My name's Hermione, Hermione Granger. I'm sorr-"

"Granger eh? Sounds like a Mudblood name to me."

She had tried, she really had tried, but from the sounds of that... name? he was purposely antagonising her. Never one to let people get away with bullying she was just about to pull out her insults and let loose when another voice chimed in, this one low and oddly familiar.

"That's a dangerous word to be throwing around. People might start thinking you're a prick."

At this everyone whipped around to face the interloper, who much to Hermione's surprise was the same dark haired girl who had helped her find the platform earlier. Meanwhile the blonds' face contorted into a snarl while simultaneously turning an attractive shade of puce.

"You had better watch what you say to your betters. You never know when they might... force you to," he spat.

"That almost sounded like a threat," the girl replied, eyes narrowing dangerously. Her right arm twitched subtly towards her pocket, a move Hermione did not miss. Nor could she miss the tense atmosphere that was rapidly developing and she feared that the situation would soon escalate into a shootout.

"Please, I'm merely stating a fact. Associate yourself with the right kind and that little fact goes away. Mudbloods like her on the other hand are definitely the wrong sort."

Whether the boy was simply oblivious or worse truly thought that what he said would diffuse the situation was beside point, though Hermione was curious as to whether it was a symptom of breeding or just being a boy. Either way she readied herself to dive to the nearest cover at a moment's notice.

Just as the girl was about to start hexing the door to the cabin behind them burst open, the tension vanishing as once again everyone turned to face another interloper. This time it was a tall blonde girl with icy blue eyes framed by long straight locks, her pretty face marred by an irritated scowl. She glanced around, taking in the scene she had interrupted before shooting her fellow blond a withering look.

"That's harsh Draco coming from someone whose family has yet to clean off the stench of the French mud they crawled out from," she drawled, her voice bearing none of the agitation of her expression. Indeed it was almost bored, as if these sorts of racist comment were an everyday occurrence, and yet somehow it was all silk and honey.

"Stay out of this Greengrass, unless you want your name associated with a mud-" the boy bit back, his face somehow reddening even further, now a becoming shade of crimson.

"Tut-tut Draco; I'm sure your father wouldn't appreciate loosing lucrative business because of your stupidity, would he? Think of his reaction if he learned that you had been threatening his daughter."

If it were possible her voice grew smoother and oh so condescending, a woman speaking to a child. And it was working, the boy, Draco? paled while his mouth worked silently, trying desperately to save face, before he deflated rapidly.

"My father will hear about this," he spat before turning sharply on his heels and marching away, his muscle hurrying to catch up.

"I'm sure you will," the girl sniped back, relishing the sight of the smug ponce stiffening before continuing his retreat. With that out of the way she turned to the remaining two, eyeing the pair carefully, noting the brown haired girl's stiff posture and frown.

"Sorry about the... French thing, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just that sometimes you get people who are too stupid to understand plain English..." she trailed off, grasping for a good way to put it.

"Sometimes they're so stupid you need to sink to their level to get your point across," the raven haired girl spoke up, surprising the blonde and drawing out a small smile, clearly she was in the presence of the enlightened. That was all it seemed was needed to calm the brunette, who finally allowed the tension to slip from her shoulders.

"Thank you, both of you," Hermione said, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Think nothing of it, I was getting tired of his voice," the blonde replied before glancing at the other witch in their company. "That wasn't very smart you know, threatening to hex Draco like that. As much as I hate it his father's power is not inconsiderable."

The girl shrugged, giving the blonde a slightly contrite look.

"I was just going to give him an ass's head, figured he could use some help keeping the shite in."

It was crude, not to mention childish but Hermione couldn't help but collapse into a fit of giggles and neither, it seemed, could the others who soon followed her and with the laughter the last of the strained atmosphere disappeared. After finally gathering their wits the blonde was the first to remember her manners and introduced herself as Daphne Greengrass. She offered the other two a seat in her cabin, for which she received bright smiles and nods of acceptance from both. The raven haired girl however declined to give them her name, explaining that she had made a promise to her parents to keep it secret until they reached Hogwarts, offering them the pseudonym of 'Lily'. Of course this statement only served to fuel the girl's curiosities but they both had a healthy respect for privacy and so held back from prying, though not from turning the problem over in their heads.

After that initial bought of excitement the rest of the trip blurred by in relative peace, the girls spending the time chatting about their childhoods, though unsurprisingly the dark haired girl remained vague on the details. When Hermione brought up the topic of magic however both of her cabin mates lit up with enthusiasm that matched her own and they spent many hours swapping various spells they had learned.

Though she couldn't quite put her finger on why Hermione had never felt so comfortable with people her own age before, finding none of the feigned interest when she talked about books or the dismissal she had so often received when she gave her opinion. Perhaps she had finally found a place to belong?

Their only interruption had been when a slightly chubby boy had poked his head in to ask if they had seen his pet toad, to which the girls shook their heads, though at the despondent look on his face 'Lily' had suggested that he go and ask one of the older students for help. After he left they returned to their conversation, pausing every so often to watch the English countryside whip passed. Finally as the sun touched the horizon the train began to slow, letting off a loud whistle of steam to signal their approach to Hogwarts.

* * *

At the other end of the country in central London, the Wizengamot was in a flurry of activity, having been called to an emergency meeting by the Minister for Magic. Few of the gathered members had any idea as to agenda of the meeting, though a few suspected it involved Hogwarts given the presence of Griselda Marchbanks standing with the Minister. Various theories travelled around the stands in the whispers and subtle double speech of seasoned politicians, ranging from the wild to the downright alarming, as they waited for the proceedings to begin.

Finally a visibly agitated Dumbledore in his role as Chief Warlock strode to his podium to officially commence the session, cutting off the crowds speculation. The old wizard zipped through the required bureaucracy in record time before cutting straight to business and handing off to the Minister, seemingly just as eager as the rest to get to the bottom of this. Cornelius Fudge, who was best described as being of short stature and possessing a rotund figure, appeared especially diminutive as he passed by the imposing figure of the Chief Warlock before taking the stand.

"My fellow members of the Wizengamot I have called you here today to right a most grievous wrong, for I have learned that someone has attempted to impersonate our greatest hero," he bellowed, his cheeks red and voice trembling with feigned passion.

"I have been informed by the Wizarding Education Authority that last month Hogwarts issued an acceptance letter to an individual claiming to be the Girl Who Won. A fact that was purposely hidden by members of the schools staff and as such did not arrive on the desk of the honourable Governor Marchbanks until last night."

The Minister paused for dramatic effect before whirling sharply to point an accusing finger at the Chief Warlock.

"How dare you Dumbledore? Not only did you aid and abet a criminal who would desecrate the memory of a great witch but you also conspired to hide the truth from this august body."

The chamber was deathly silent as the crowd stared wide eyed at the small man on the stage. It had been a well known fact that the Minister did practically nothing without the advice of Hogwart's esteemed headmaster, and yet here he was accusing him of what was tantamount to sacrilege. Devious minds turned over the opportunities this new development presented as they watched the old man stand slowly, his garishly coloured robes doing nothing to hide the stiffness of his posture.

"Cornelius I am disappointed that you think so little of me as to accuse me of such... treachery. Surely you and the esteemed Madam Marchbanks know of the Book of Acceptance and the enchantments placed on it by the Four Founders themselves?"

"In over a thousand years of the school's history not once has it failed in its purpose, it is infallible. If it has determined that Alexandria Potter still lives then I am willing to place my complete trust in that fact."

"So you admit then that you allowed some foul person to take her place? That's absurd Dumbledore; everyone knows that the Potter died 10 years ago. All of the evidence we have points to that fact," the Minister shouted back, frustration evident. "The Ministry has no reason to believe that there are any living Potters, and believe me we have our own ways of keeping track of people."

Where they had been previously silent the crowd soon erupted into chaos as they arranged themselves behind the duelling powers. The original issue becoming nothing more than a proxy through which the two major power blocs within the Wizengamot vied for power. A victory here could lead to Dumbledore being cast out as Chief Warlock, a move that would tip things in favour of less savoury agendas, whilst defeating Fudge would weaken the influence of the wealthier members. It was a well known fact the Minister enjoyed indulging in fineries at his supporter's expense.

As the 'debate' raged on with no foreseeable conclusion few noticed a small commotion occurring in the antechamber as three figures, two cloaked, marched purposefully towards the great wooden doors that lead into the Wizengamot proper. Several Ministry employees attempted to bar their way to no avail as one of the figures flashed a signet ring in their face, the prestige behind the crest cowing the lowly workers. Throwing the doors open vigorously, with the echoing boom silencing the room, they strode forwards, ignoring the gaping faces amongst the stands before coming to a halt at the centre of the room.

"Black what is the meaning of this?" Fudge demanded as he recognised the grinning leader of the intruders. The man stood at well above average height, with messy black hair and eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Well Minister, seeing as this meeting was so urgent I figured I might as well help it along by brining the evidence right to you," he replied jovially, gesturing towards his companions.

The moment the last piece fell into place for Dumbledore he gasped, staring at the two cloaked figures with open shock.

"Sirius... you don't mean...?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

As if that were a signal the two figures reached up and pulled down their hoods, sending ripples of shock cascading throughout the audience.

"Hello Albus."

* * *

**A/N:**

Oops a cliff-hanger.

So here's the first chapter and there's a lot of shifting in tone here, going from slow and ponderous to faster and a little more humorous and then all the way back to slow. Part of the reason is because I'm experimenting with writing still so this wonky pacing might happen every so often.

I also wanted to start developing the personalities of the three main characters and so I needed a bit of a talky chapter which of course means less action and a slower pace. If it was too slow I apologise but something like this needed to be done.

Also you might notice that Sirius Black is free with no explanation as to how or why that happened to him. That is a planned plot hole that I will fill in coming chapters and it exists because I want to slowly reveal the past as I go along so that this reads sort of like a completely new world where you don't have any foreknowledge of the setting, characters etc. If I don't correct this by around Chapter 10 call me out on it.

Finally as I wrote this I found that I was imagining the scenes as being set in the 21st Century, which of course is a good 10-20 years in the future of the books. This is mostly unimportant to the story but styles of dress and various cultural aspects like movies; slang etc might slip into the 21st century. I don't really remember the trends and the culture of the 90's well so bare with me.

As usual please be honest if you choose to review, lies do nothing to help me improve!


	3. Chapter 2 – Hoggy Warty Hogwarts

**Chapter 2 – Hoggy Warty Hogwarts**

Perhaps it was due to seeing the ghosts of long dead friends, or because of some lingering guilt over not being able to save them, but Albus Dumbledore could not bring himself to feel the elation he should be experiencing at the sight of the two in front of him. Lily and James Potter, heroes, soldiers and martyrs of the last war; his war. He had held suspicions about their survival for over a month now, had been preparing himself for this very eventuality in fact and yet when it all came down to it he was lost.

Lily stood as beautiful as ever, the last ten years barely touching her, a fond smile belying the fire behind her green eyes, eyes that her daughter would no doubt share. She was after something, eyes drilling into his as if all the answers to some mystery lay within them, and he could not blink for in spite of all his power he had no cards to play should she find those answers. Mercifully she looked away, though not before a strange look passed over her face.

In the moments he had to gather himself he truly felt his age, bones aching under the strain and mind scrambling to hold his thoughts together. It was a shaken man who turned his eyes to James Potter, the younger wizard holding himself proudly with a hint of his old arrogance in his posture. There was subtle strength to the man, stemming from the knowledge that all he did was to protect his family, a quality most evident in his steely eyes. The old man sighed internally as he sagged into his seat, there would be no victories won today only graceful retreat.

"It seems that our existence is in doubt James," the Witch said, faint amusement mixing with curiosity as her eyes passed over the gathered audience.

"And yet here we are," the Wizard replied, still watching the Headmaster.

"Here we are..."

As if their words unbarred the floodgates the room burst into an uproar, shouted accusations were flung from all directions while demands for answers were howled overtop ineffectual pleas for order. Unfazed the three figures at the centre of the room remained silent, impassively examining the members of the Wizengamot like they would curios in a store. The chaos continued to build as previously silent voices jumped in until it seemed likely that a riot would soon ensue but at its height a booming crack stilled the mob, their attention brought to the Chief Warlock now standing in the rooms centre.

"Enough," he roared, pausing for breath before continuing. "We are not some unruly horde ready to descend at the drop of a match. We are here for the truth and we will find it in due time so kindly return to your seats that we may begin."

"Lily, James, would you be willing to submit to questioning under veritaserum to prove that you are who you claim to be?"

The two exchanged a look, holding a discussion with their eyes for several moments until the redhead answered.

"Yes however we are only willing to answer that one question. There are things we hold in confidence that we will not risk, especially now that our daughter stands amongst the world."

Her statement set off a round of discontented murmurs which were quickly silenced when Dumbledore signalled for quiet, a move that made clear to all who held the reigns of this chamber. All things considered the Chief Warlock could not hope for much more than the two were willing to give. It would have to be another day then that he unlocked their secrets. With that in mind he signalled his acceptance of their terms and called for the truth serum.

Ultimately the questioning provided little insight into the events of that Halloween ten years ago, beyond proving without a doubt that the Potters had survived and stood before the assembly tonight. Though he was tempted to pry further he knew that the dosage of potion was far too low to last beyond the first question, as the Potters had intended. The only other clue he gleaned came from the confirmation that their daughter had indeed been responsible for the Dark Lord's demise.

With the proceedings winding down there was to be one final surprise in store when James laid claim to his family's hereditary seat on the Wizengamot, in effect declaring the resurgence of the old house of Potter. Though protest came from many sources the charter was clear and thus a new seat appeared amongst the stands, though plain and yet to be decorated by its new owner.

In the end Dumbledore withdrew to Scotland weary and battered, the events of the meeting churning in his head. Though the repercussions were yet to be seen he had no doubt they would be significant and already he could sense the Powers That Be plotting in the shadows. Ultimately he could only deal with them as they came, hopefully one at a time, and thus shelved those thoughts and turned instead to more cheerful things. In just a few short hours the sorting ceremony would begin and he looked forward to welcoming a new batch of students into the world of magic.

* * *

By the time the Hogwarts Express had come to a stop in Hogsmeade Station the sun had long since set and so it was into the night that Daphne stepped. Moonlight and torches illuminated the platform, scattering flickering shadows about and setting an eerie mood upon the students.

As she peered around at her surroundings Daphne noticed a single light bobbing its way along an unseen path towards the platform. Eventually, once it got close enough, it resolved into a huge man dressed in a rough leather coat and holding a lantern out in front him. His wild beard and unkempt hair, not to mention enormous size, set alarm bells ringing in the girl who instinctively reached for her wand. Just as her fingers brushed against her the fir shaft of her wand 'Lily' reached out to stop her, placing a hand on the blonde's shoulder and giving her a slight shake of her head, silent laughter clear on her face. The raven haired Witch tipped her head towards the giant, drawing Daphne's attention back towards him.

"Firs' years gather round, gather round. The names Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper o' Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. We'll be takin' some boats up t' the school inna few minutes. Now if you'll follow me," he hollered before leading the students back down the path he came.

Daphne felt her cheeks heat up at the thought that she had almost hexed a staff member; moreover she had more than one witness judging by the poorly suppressed snickers coming from behind her. Swivelling slowly back to her dark haired companion she couldn't help but growl a little at the cheshire grin on the other girl's face, she knew what was coming.

"Don't you-"

"Now who's the hasty one?"

...Damn it.

* * *

Several minutes later the girls found themselves sharing a small boat that propelled itself down a small creek, following several identical vessels, while the surface of the water forming a perfect mirror that cast a sea of stars beneath them. The banks were a rolling hillside, dotted with silhouetted trees and a small stone path snaking its way alongside the river, every so often they would pass under small stone bridges that glowed under lantern light. It was almost picturesque, exuding a magic beyond simply being charming, the relaxing atmosphere soothed away any worries and opened their minds to the possibilities that lay ahead.

Every so often little snippets of conversation drifted over the water from other boats around them. Much to their amusement they overheard some boys arguing over which house was the best and what the sorting ceremony would be like; according to one boy's brothers they might need to wrestle trolls! Though the speculation grew ever wilder as they approached what looked like a lake, it did bring back some of their anxiousness about the night ahead. Hermione especially looked unsettled, her shoulders pulling in tightly and her eyes staring blankly out into the darkness as she mulled over her thoughts. It wasn't long until her curiosity got the better of her.

"I wonder if they're going to test us. I mean I'm sure I'll be ready, if they do that is," she whispered uncertainly, trailing off further with each word. "I've read through _Hogwarts, A History_ but it only mentioned it vaguely, something about it being a tradition to keep it secret. Oh I hope they don't test us..."

Daphne fought down a chuckle that threatened to bubble up to the surface, it was cute how the brunette rambled when she was nervous. 'Lily' on the other hand had no such decorum, choosing instead to have a little fun with her fellow students.

"According to my godfather the ceremony is supposed to involve the following, and I quote: 'first we are supposed to battle our way through the realm of the Mer people, then face down the challenge of our elders. Finally we will have to battle the magic of the Four Founders of Hogwarts themselves to win our spot amongst the houses," she intoned ominously, making sure that her words had enough volume to carry over to the other boats.

She paused a moment to let her words settle in before continuing in a much softer voice that only her two new friends could hear.

"Then again it was my godfather so you can never be sure if he's just messing with you."

Daphne lost her battle for self control and cackled wickedly as a wave of almost tangible anxiety rolled in from the other students, her infectious laugh spreading quickly to her two companions. Their laughter caught the attention of 'Lily's' victims who soon realised that they were being had. Unfortunately for them, the death glares they sent towards the girls only served to send them into stitches again. After what felt like an eternity they managed to regain control just in time to spot something rising up over a hill as their craft entered the Black Lake.

As if pulled out of a fairy tale a medieval castle perched atop a cliff, its enormous spires reaching up towards the pitch black sky with walkways stretching out over dizzying heights between them. Elaborately shaped parapets lined the roofs and walls of the structure, accentuating the commanding presence it projected over the lake, while candlelight flickered out of hundred of windows, wrapping the castle in a golden nimbus. Though breathtaking in and of itself, the perfectly still water projected its mirror image across the entire lake creating a sight that would stay with the students for as long as they would live.

"Welcome t' Hogwarts," boomed Hagrid.

* * *

It was a subdued crowd of first years that was lead up a winding set of stairs climbiing the face of the cliff, still struck by the grandeur of the castle. Soon the group came to a stop in front of a large pair of wooden doors where an austere woman dressed in dark flowing robes and a tall pointed hat stood waiting patiently. Upon noticing their arrival a small smile cross her lips; her eyes scanning brief over them before nodding in thanks to the giant groundskeeper as he handed them over into her care.

"All right this 'ere is Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress. She'll be takin' you from 'ere on," Hagrid rumbled, giving them an encouraging wave as he left through a door hidden off to the side.

"In a few moments we will be entering the Great Hall through the doors behind me," said the Professor, her tone one of someone who had repeated these words many times in the past. "There we shall hold the sorting ceremony to determine which of the four houses you will be staying in for the rest of your time here."

"When we begin the ceremony I will call you forward in alphabetical order to place the Sorting Hat upon your head. It will determine which of the houses you belong in after which you will join your housemates at their table for the feast."

With her instruction finished the older witch pushed open the door and gestured for the first years to follow her, to which they nervously complied. As the doors swung open they revealed a cavernous hall packed with students seated at four long tables that ran down the length of the room. At the head of the chamber another table sat on a raised platform, looking over the entirety of the hall, around which the staff was arranged.

It was however the ceiling, or rather the apparent lack of one, that drew the most attention. A constellation of floating candles was all that appeared to sit between the students and the night sky, a fact that was made even more glaring when a rare cloud passed low enough to eclipse several lights. A keen scholar might know that it was all a product of illusions but to many it was the first great work of magic they had seen, making the spectacle all the more impressive.

Eventually the transfixed students were brought back to reality when the Professor cleared her throat. A stool lay at the centre of the chamber just below the staff table, resting on top of it was a dusty old hat that had definitely seen better days. Daphne wondered whether this was supposed to be the Sorting Hat the Professor had mentioned, though it was in rough shape for such an important artefact. If it was indeed the hat she wondered how it worked, after all determining someone's character was a difficult task even for humans so how would an object go about it.

As if sensing her scrutiny the rumpled cloth twitched and creased until a tear opened along its brim and the hat sprang into a rousing song, startling the bewildered first years. Soon after the hat's tune died down McGonagall consulted a long piece of parchment in her hand, announcing that the sorting would begin with Hannah Abbot. As fascinating as it was to watch the reactions of her fellow first years when they put on the hat Daphne soon began to tune out the names as they went by, focusing instead on the staff that were watching the proceedings intently.

They were a varied bunch, ranging from diminutive to enormous in size and from overjoyed and expressive to walled off and distant. For example an incredibly short man who appeared to be half goblin chatted animatedly with the giant groundskeeper, providing a study in contrast, and a stout woman dressed in earthen tones.

On the end of the spectrum a dour faced man with lank black hair glowered down at the festivities, his eyes darting from face to face as if searching for someone in particular. Beside him sat a jittery looking man with a turban covering his head, his terrified expression almost pitiful as he watched the ritual. Was he really afraid of a bunch of first years?

At the centre of the table, seated on a large gilded throne was an imposing man despite the obvious signs of age. His long flowing white hair blended with his beard to form a pale mane that clashed with his gaudy blue robes. A grandfatherly smile graced his elderly features as he scanned the new additions to the school as if taking in their measure. Obviously this was the famed Albus Dumbledore then, Headmaster of the school and probably the greatest living wizard, if not the greatest of the modern age.

A soft hiss from her side ended her survey of the staff prematurely; gazing around she found 'Lily' clutching her head while a pained grimace twisted her lips. Catching the girl's pair of green eyes as the moment seemed to pass she quirked her brow in askance, receiving a shrug and a reassuring smile in return. Just as she turned back to the sorting however she caught the dark haired witch staring briefly at the staff table with an unreadable look in her eyes. Albeit still troubled Daphne let the matter slide to the back of her mind to sit with the myriad of other mysteries surrounding her new friend, time enough to solve them later.

Returning her focus back to the sorting she found that she was scarcely on time to hear Hermione called up to the stool. Her friend made her way apprehensively towards the dingy old hat, pausing briefly before lifting it up and jamming it onto her head in one swift move. The hats wide brim covered nearly the entire top half of her head, hiding her eyes and more importantly much of her expression from view. Judging from the way her jaw seemed to twitch every so often the blonde surmised that the other girl was thinking rapidly. A long stretch of time passed, the waiting audience growing restless until even the Professors appeared perplexed at the delay before the mouth like tear opened back up, casting a hush over the hall.

"So that's how it's going to be eh? Very well you'll just have to go to Gryffindor!" the hat bellowed.

Amidst cheers from the crowd the bushy haired witch joined her new house at their table, relief replacing the uncertainty that had been present since the rite had begun.

After the room had quietened down again the Professor pressed on with the sorting, gazing briefly at her list before calling for the next student. As it so happened it was Daphne's turn under the hat, something that she was both dreading and anticipating. The hat probably peeked into their minds to look for characteristics and memories to help it decide where to place them. She was of two minds on how she felt about the prospect of an object rummaging through her head. Regardless she was here for a reason and her squeamishness was not about to get in her way.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself and taking strength from 'Lily's' thumbs up and Hermione's cheery wave, she marched purposefully forwards and took up the hat. The moment the fabric brushed against her hair a strange pressure built in her head, the feeling of a foreign intruder drawing closer and closer until just as it was becoming unbearable a voice spoke up in her mind and relieved the pressure.

_"Well isn't this intriguing, such drive in one so young. I sense much potential in you, though whether or not you choose to live up to it is out of my hands,"_ came the voice, gruff and resonating with centuries of experience. _"Now... where to put you?"_

_"I'm not sure I appreciate you rifling through my head like this, legilimency right?"_

_"Clever too it seems much like your friend. It's rare that I get to talk to someone and now two in a row! You'd do very well in Ravenclaw; Rowena's house always did appreciate the inquisitive."_

It was an attractive thought; Ravenclaw was home to some of the brightest of their generation, being amongst them would be invaluable as she explored the unknown. But what about her other dreams? She wanted to make the name Greengrass synonymous with power and challenge the stagnant wizarding world, pushing it forward into a new age. She had so much to do and so very little time but would she still have the opportunity in the house of the intelligent?

_"Well I can only presume that having a talking hat read your mind would be intimidating for a lot of people. As for Ravenclaw... I'm not sure if I want to limit myself to the pursuit of knowledge."_

_"Limit yourself?" _the hat barked, sounding affronted._ "The houses were never meant to be limits, merely to provide an environment to nurture the Founder's chosen. It was the work of fools and imbeciles that gave rise to the idea that your house's ideals must be your own."_

_"Gryffindor seeks the brave and the bold but from their company has come many a scholar. Hufflepuff holds true to one another and values hard work above talent yet plenty gifted have been embraced by Helga's house. And Slytherins, ambitious and cunning as they are famed to be, have given birth to great charities."_

_"So you're saying that the Founder's never intended for the houses to be dividing lines between the students like they have been? Stereotypes by which to judge our differences?"_

_"It is the witch, my dear, who defines the house, not the house that defines the witch."_

As earth shaking as that revelation was for her it did make a great deal of sense. Why would the Founder's intentionally fracture the magical population when it was already so small? Infighting and friction between groups could only hasten the erosion of magical culture, especially as muggles became so numerous and powerful. Still that did beg one question.

_"Then why even sort the students? What purpose does this have other than to divide us?" _Daphne asked, at a loss as to the true answer.

_"Regardless of the divisions the houses do one very specific thing; they surround the students with kindred spirits, letting them form comfortable bonds with their peers without the uncertainty of difference," _the hat lectured solemnly_. "It was to provide them a base of support that allowed them to reach out to the rest of their peers. In this way the Founder's hoped to hold at least part of the magical world together."_

_"So we've lost sight of their original goal? By choosing only to form bonds with people from our own house we have only divided the world even more."_

_"Exactly which is why I entreat you, as I do every student not that they listen, to go out and find kindred spirits outside of the walls of your house. Do your part to repair the damage that has been wrought."_

It was a sobering thought, a task over a thousand years overdue and the hat wanted her to take it up? Then again it was her dream to shake the world to its foundations; this would only be a small side note in comparison when her story was eventually told. A small smile touched her lips; yes she may just take it up on its challenge, though even the hat might be surprised at the results.

_"Speaking of houses, we seem to have gotten sidetracked. As pleasant as this conversation has been we should get back to discussing where you'd like to go."_

_"You're giving me a choice?" _she asked, shocked at her good fortune.

_"You'd find a place in any of the four. Your loyalty to your family and dedication to perfection would be well received in Hufflepuff, while your courage in facing the world is what Gryffindor embodies. Though with your ambition you'd do very well in Slytherin, very well indeed."_

Ultimately she knew it didn't matter where she ended up, only that she make the situation work for her. With that in mind she asked herself which of the houses she would be most comfortable in. Hermione was already in Gryffindor and having a friend around would make her time at Hogwarts a happier affair. But then again she had no idea where 'Lily' would be sorted and what's more she'd be better suited to attempt the hat's task if she had fewer motives to stay isolated within her house.

As she continued to ponder her thoughts always found their way back to what the hat had said, she'd do well in Slytherin and the more she thought about it the more intriguing the option became. The house of the cunning would undoubtedly help drive her to achieve her dreams, though its dark reputation might place them a little bit further out of her reach. She also knew a good portion of the people sitting around the house's table and certainly didn't care for them, impetus then to find friends elsewhere. Yes it would do very well indeed.

_"Minds made up then? There's no going back from here," _the hat warned.

Rather than reply she simply nodded, unwilling to trust that her voice, even her inner monologue, would not waver.

_"Right then, I'd wish you luck if I thought you wanted it," _the hat chuckled before continuing out loud. "Tricky... tricky one you are but better be... Slytherin!"

The next chunk of sorting passed by in a blur for Daphne after she had sat down at Slytherin table. According to a first year girl that she had sat with her sorting had taken just as long as Hermione's leaving the blonde to wonder what the hat had discussed with her bushy haired friend. With the unsorted crowd dwindling until only a few were left including 'Lily', Professor McGonagall hesitated before shooting a meaningful look back up to the staff table towards the Headmaster. Daphne watched on with interest as a silent conversation went on between the two before the witch stiffened and spun around sharply back to the ceremony. What happened next would shatter the Slytherin's daze and bring to the fore far more questions than she had answers.

"Potter... Alexandria," the Professor announced unsteadily.

You could almost hear a feather drop as chatter ceased entirely around the hall. All eyes turning to the small group yet to be sorted, searching for the one that would respond to the summons. Much like the majority of her peers the blonde witch was still trying to grasp what she had just heard, a supposedly dead witch's name. How was this even possible? Alexandria Potter's story was known to everyone in magical England and it was a tragedy that ended with the deaths of everyone involved. Suspicion immediately seeped into her as she noticed Dumbledore lean forward in anticipation. Pieces of a puzzle, that had been building since she had boarded the train, fell into place while her eyes whipped over to a pair of vibrant green ones.

A promise to explain later, begging for understanding and apprehension was all conveyed by those jade eyes as 'Lily' gave her an apologetic smile. Part of Daphne wanted to feel hurt that she wasn't trusted enough to share secrets with but the pragmatic side reminded her that they had barely known each other for half a day. As much of a rapport as they had built in that time it was simply too short for any of them to truly know one another. In the other girl's place she would have done very much the same. Hours seemed to go by while their eyes remained locked before the blonde nodded briefly and tipped her head towards their newly minted Gryffindor friend.

'Lily'-no-Alexandria's smile broadened as relief seemed to flood into her body, nodding in acknowledgement of the unspoken order. As the Slytherin watched on the dark haired witch repeated the process at the Gryffindor table, her posture strengthening as she received another gesture of understanding. Finally as the tension in the crowd was about to boil over she took a step forward, immediately singling her out for scrutiny and the room erupted into anarchy. Shouted demands for an explanation soon drowned out the Professors cries for quiet and soon the entire room was a free for all of noise and bodies. In the end it took the Headmaster to restore order.

"Quiet!"

"If you would please remain calm until the morning I am sure you will find a satisfactory explanation in the day's issue of the Daily Prophet. Now Ms Potter if you please?" he finished gesturing towards the stool.

Pausing briefly to marshal her nerves the girl advanced towards the stool with deliberate steps, ignoring the whisper around her, until she was close enough to snatch up the grimy accessory and place it gingerly over her head. Like Hermione's and Daphne's own the girls sorting seemed to take an age, though some of that was more to do with the suspense in the atmosphere. Throughout the entire time it felt like everyone was holding their breaths, waiting anxiously to find out where the arisen hero would be placed.

Much to Daphne's amusement the girl under the hat proved to be far more animated than the others she had seen, clearly having quite the conversation with the hat if her laughter said anything. The girl's expression turned thoughtful however as time dragged on, perhaps contemplating her house much like the Slytherin had? When the hat twitched open its mouth it seemed the choice had been made, the witch under the hat having relaxed and was now wearing an odd smile. With baited breath everyone in witness leaned forward, urging the hat to have mercy on their poor hearts.

"Great expectations have been placed on you my dear. Let's hope you can meet them in... Gryffindor!"

* * *

**A/N:**

Oh snap! Cannon sort.

So I'm hoping you caught some of the implications of what happened this chapter. I tried to be a little careful with how I characterized some people, especially at the start of this chapter, as I really don't want to get into the normal clichés of this community.

Anyway most of the chapter is viewed from over Daphne's shoulder as I wanted to develop her a little more along with what I had done last chapter. Hopefully she's come off as a bit calculating and pragmatic while still being as fun loving and snarky as the other main characters. As she's basically the perfect Cannon OC as others have called her I wanted her to be the one that the exposition on the role of houses delivered to since it would give me a chance to establish some of her motivations. Expect her ambitions to play a big role in how the plot develops later on.

Actually you may have noticed that most sections of this story have focused on one character's perspective so far for those reasons. With the reveal of 'Lily's' identity hopefully I can stop that and write a more balanced third person story.

The discerning reader might also have noticed the similarity in the way the chapter began and ended and be thinking that I got lazy. Partly that's true, I couldn't think of how else to realistically portray a reveal that big. But also because I wanted to try end the chapter with a bookend because I can! I may have tried to do too much with this chapter and it's probably worse off for it.

Speaking of quality, class is starting up again for me so I'll be slowing down updates a bit, hopefully around 1-2 weeks per chapter. Because there'll be more time between chapters I was wondering if some of you would be willing to Beta Read this story? Having a couple of extra eyes on this as I write it would be amazing. Fair warning though my drafting process is horrible and you'd have to put up with my weirdness.

If you are interested send me a PM and I'll work something out, probably a dropbox.


	4. Chapter 3 – Broomsticks, Books and other

**Update 18/03/2014 - **Changed one of the paragraphs in the second section to make it clearer what the school's reaction was to the big revelation.

**Chapter 3 – Broomsticks, Books and other B words**

The morning after the opening feast found Hermione Granger groggily climbing out of her bed. The Gryffindor first year girl's dorm room that housed her was cosy, fitting four posted beds along with a wardrobe apiece and was decorated in rich shades of red with the occasional golden trim on the linen. While digging through her trunk in search of clothing, she noticed absently that she had the room to herself; normally she shared the space with three other girls from their year including Alexandria Potter. She still wasn't sure what to think about her friend's identity; not having grown up with stories of the famous 'Girl Who Won' she found the whole situation more than a little strange. Then again to have defeated the most feared wizard in recent history at such a young age, just as the world had started to lose hope for that matter. She could understand why everyone seemed to make such a fuss over her, although as far as she could tell the adulation seemed to annoy the witch more than anything.

She found herself thoughts drifting back to the previous night and how Alexandria had seemed so uncomfortable with all of the whispering and staring. After the famous witch sat down at the Gryffindor table amidst deafening cheers she had chatted amicably with her fellow Gryffindors around her, accepting the attention with good humour. Nevertheless Hermione couldn't help but notice that most of the time Alexandria had tried to keep a conversation going with her, which while as nice as it was to talk to a friend, served as a convenient means of shielding herself from the clamour. It helped that both were raised in the muggle world, from what Hermione could tell, so there was nothing lost in translation as they talked about hobbies and exchanged jokes. As the night wore on however Hermione wanted more and more too simply flop onto a bed and pass out, exhausted as she was from all of the days excitement. Thus the rest of the night's proceedings blurred past in her dazed state until she had found herself bidding her roommates goodnight, thoughts of magic and floating quills drifting around her subconscious as she drifted off to sleep.

Back in the present Hermione had just walked down into the common room as her reminiscence came to an end. She took a moment to survey the crowd that lingered in her new home only to spot a familiar head of messy black hair poke out from behind the stairs.

"Morning Hermione, fancy finding you here."

As casual as the other girl had tried to make the greeting it was rather obvious that she had been trying to keep a low profile, tucked into a corner as she was. Why she even bothered, when it seemed everyone in the room had at least one eye locked on Alexandria at any given time, was lost on her. Regardless the girl's jaunty good morning brought a smile to her face and washed away the last of the morning fog.

"Good morning Alexandria, I see you've been... keeping busy," replied Hermione, chuckling at her friend's sheepish smile which quickly turned into a haunted grimace as the girl parsed the rest of her words.

"Ugh, please don't call me that. Alexandria brings up all kinds of childhood trauma that I really could do without right now. Call me Alex; short, simple and attractive if I do say so myself."

The bushy haired witch rolled her eyes at the roguish smirk Alex wore and though her curiosity was certainly piqued she put it aside until they met with Daphne. They had made the promise to meet up in the morning near the end of the feast; or rather Daphne had demanded in no uncertain terms that Alex explain herself, an action Hermione supported wholeheartedly.

"Very well then Alex, are you ready to get going? We have an entire castle to explore before tomorrow."

"Not to mention an interrogation to get started with?" Alex asked wryly before sketching a shallow bow and motioning for her to go ahead.

Hermione at least had the decency to blush as she huffed and marched towards the exit, primly ignoring the snickering coming from behind her. She had almost reached the portrait door when it swung open suddenly and a pair of bodies barrelled in. It was only through sheer luck that one of them stumbled slightly, causing the other to collide into them and landing both of them in a pile of twitching limbs in front of her. After finally catching her breath and allowing her brain to catch up and process the absurdity of what she had just experienced, she examined the human bulldozers closely. The two were nearly identical, probably quite tall and gangly if they stood up, with shocking red hair that appeared to have never encountered a comb before. Seemingly unfazed by their situation the two proceeded to hold a discussion without even bothering to get up, whilst every so often glancing nervously back towards the portrait.

"Think they're still after us?"

"Nonsense dear brother, we are in the sanctuary of Gryffindor's common room."

"Which will do nothing to protect us if they go to McGonagall."

"Ah... there is that."

As interesting as it was to watch the two plot while still lying on the floor, the girls were on a tight schedule and the twins were blocking the exit. While Alex was tempted to prod the two of them until she got a reaction, Hermione decided on a more diplomatic tactic.

"Excuse me but are you two ok?" she asked, with more than a little confusion lacing her voice.

The unexpected interruption startled the red heads, who somehow managed to untangle themselves in midair as they leapt to their feet. They eyed their interlopers warily as if they were spies for some unknown enemy before recognition dawned at the sight of Alex's trademark messy black hair. Twin chesire smiles bloomed as they dusted themselves off casually; evidently this sort of thing was an everyday occurrence for them.

"Messirs Fred and George Weasley at your service," spoke the one on the left, completely ignoring the question.

"You lovely ladies wouldn't happen to be our ickle firsties would you?" the other asked.

"If my instincts are right Fred we're in the presence of royalty."

"We might not be worthy George."

"Save it you two, I get enough of it from that lot," Alex muttered, stabbing a finger back the way she came. "I'm Alex and this is Hermione, it's nice to meet you but we're kind of in a hurry so if you could excuse us?"

"Oh right, seems like we're impeding the adventures of the next generation."

"You know George, as responsible third years we should really be keeping them responsible."

"You're right Fred, who knows what kind of monsters are out there ready to gobble up little children that wander into their lair, even the great Alexandria Potter."

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do," instructed the twin on the right, with no sincerity what so ever, before they waved and ran off back to their dorms leaving the bemused witches behind to try and make sense of the rapid fire panache.

"Well that was... interesting," said Alex finally, shrugging helplessly at her friend. "Let's just get a move on, Daphne's probably getting anxious waiting and I'm not sure I want to remember that... conversation."

Hermione could only nod in agreement and follow the girl out towards the great hall.

After meeting up with their friend they spend the rest of the day combing the halls in search of their class rooms as well as poking around for secrets and hidden treasures. Along the way they interrogated Alex for answers and though she held back a lot ultimately, neither of the girls was disappointed with Alex's account of what had happened on Halloween ten years ago. The fact that basically all of the stories they had been told, fantastic as they sounded, were true was nothing short of astounding. But the how was what they found truly fascinating; as far as the Potters could determine it had been an act of accidental magic that had destroyed the Dark Lord. Their minds struggled to fathom how a child had instinctively cast magic that could stop a killing curse, let alone go on to destroy another being entirely.

The others had also shared a little of their past, though like Alex they kept the deepest parts of themselves private. As close as they were to each other no one was comfortable enough to give up their darkest secrets quite yet. Hermione spoke of her love of books and the antics that resulted when she had first found the public library, spinning a tale of intrigue, dastardly plots and a romance that was tragically cut short by her villainous parents. The story buoyed their mood after the introspection Alex's story had brought about and so it was a giggling Daphne who talked about life amongst the pureblood elite. Whereas before both Alex and Hermione could claim that purebloods were weird, now they were left wondering how exactly that fact had escaped the rest of the magical world. Accounts of how they married their relatives and tip-toed about vying for power over the slightest of things certainly brought up questions about their sanity. However when Daphne recounted her escapades leading the noble's children, and even some adults, about by their nose they were left with no other conclusion that they were entirely off their rockers.

Bonding over shared stories of hilarity and oddity, the three chose their path at random, paying only cursory attention to where they were going. Eventually they arrived by chance at the entrance to the schools great library, where hundreds upon thousands of books could be seen lining the shelves through the glass windows. Much to her friend's amusement Hermione spent more than a minute drooling over the sight before reality kicked back in and she shuffled forwards like a zombie. The inside proved even more incredible as several wings and floors were revealed, stretching out until they could barely make out the walls. They would spend the last few hours of the day here, with Hermione flitting about, torn as to which direction she wanted to go and generally making an oddly pleasant nuisance of themselves for Madam Pince, the school librarian. It appeared they had found a home amongst the vastness of the castle.

* * *

The rest of the first week seemed to fly passed for the three. Classes came and went and though they were split up for some it did nothing to stop a friendly rivalry from forming around them. As a whole the subjects were intriguing, ranging from the deliberate Transfiguration to the light-hearted fun of Charms, except for History of Magic which they universally agreed was mind numbingly boring.

Potions and Snape were another game entirely however and Alex stormed out of Gryffindor and Slytherin's first class ready to explode. From the moment the Potions Professor had walked into class she had been subjected to a bewildering level of scrutiny; every detail of her work criticised no matter that it was just as good as her friend's. When he wasn't dismissing her efforts he was antagonising her cruelly, fishing for an excuse to throw her out. If it hadn't been for Daphne kicking her in the shin whenever she was about to lose it she never would have survived passed the thirty minute mark. Worst of all was that she couldn't tell whether the man simply despised her or if something about her terrified the man enough to make him lash out, as he had never once met her eyes when she glared back at him.

Once Alex had calmed down enough Hermione suggested they go and see Professor McGonagall, only to be shot down when Daphne informed them that Snape held the favour of the school's Board of Governors and the Headmaster. That turned out to be the right decision as they later found out, from older students, that several times throughout his tenure he had been accused of being unprofessional and abusive, only to be cleared of any wrong doing almost immediately. In any case Alex had no desire to attract any more aggression from the Potions teacher and resolved to ignore his sniping, a tactic which worked reasonably well though she left each lesson fuming.

By the time Friday came around the clamour around Alex had died down a little, with the articles the Prophet printed clearing up some of their story and simple familiarity serving to turn her fairy tale into an everyday, if still enthralling reality. Over the week the three had gotten used to most of the quirks of life at Hogwarts and the busy schedule of classes had become routine. They would meet up for breakfast, drawing more than their fair share of looks as they disregarded the normal seating arrangements and sat down at whatever table one of them had claimed first. A good number of Gryffindors had reacted poorly to hosting a member of Slytherin house on the first day but could do little other than throw a few choice words around; it wasn't like there were any rules forbidding it. Slytherin had a similar reaction during their lunch period, when Daphne had ushered them over to a space she had reserved, achieving just as little despite their bluster. It would become a tradition for them, especially as their circle of friends grew out to other houses.

Between classes they would meet up again to further their exploration of magic; pouring through texts in the library, practising spells wherever they could find space and simply bouncing ideas around. It was during these times that they tended to stumble upon many of Hogwarts lesser known locales which they dutifully kept track of, forming a pool of knowledge that would slowly come to rival even the Twins. That's not to say that they spent all of their free time with each other exclusively. Daphne introduced them to Tracy Davis, a fellow Slytherin who according to the blonde was 'the only girl in that house I can stand.' Though not quite as enamoured of mystery as they were, she proved to have a strong sense of fun and was even brave enough to join them in their table hoping escapades from time to time. On the other hand Alex and Hermione had several more run-ins with the Twins, Fred and George, which slowly built into a competition over witty remarks and knowledge of the castle. When Daphne first met them she was a bemused as the other two to find them attempting to coax one of the schools many suits of armour to let them borrow an arm for a day or three.

As noon quickly drew closer the girls had one final class before the week came to a close. Alex could barely contain her excitement as they hurried through the corridors and out into the castle's main courtyard for their first flying lesson.

* * *

Flying was a class taught only in first year, mandated by the Ministry of Magic to ensure that every student was at least capable of utilizing a broomstick. Due to the limited number of school brooms and the proscription on first years owning brooms the students would be divided into two classes. Gryffindor house would share their sessions with Slytherin while Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had already had the class on Thursday.

The concept of the class seemed simple enough; they were to learn how to fly on a broomstick like the witches in old stories. Unfortunately Hermione had never felt particularly comfortable at height, she certainly wasn't afraid of them. No it was more the fact that being at height was an unnatural state for human beings and who was she to deny the natural order of things? Moreover she was concerned about the suitability of such tiny, impossible to balance on, sticks of very old and possibly rotten wood as flying machines.

As a result the class was a disaster almost from the first minute. Madam Hooch, the teacher, had them line up beside a broom and attempt to summon it to their hand with only their words. Of course Hermione's broom just had to be defective, barely managing more than a twitch regardless of how fervently she called to it. Frustrated she peered around to see if she was the only one having trouble, which thankfully was not the case. She did spot several people with the broom firmly in hand though and even a few who were tentatively floating above the ground. Annoyingly however a group, which included her two closest friends, was already flying around in lazy circles over the grounds. It wasn't long before they noticed that Hermione was having difficulties and descended towards the ground to try and help her. Regrettably they weren't the only ones who noticed her struggling.

Draco Malfoy sneered at the sight of the damnable witch's failure, all week she had been getting in his way, showing him up and polluting his education with her muggle ideas. It was times like these that one realised just how superior wizards were to filthy muggle pretenders like her. Here then was a golden opportunity to show the girl her place. When the teacher left momentarily to take an injured student to the nurse he struck. Glancing around surreptitiously, he checked to see that no one was likely to be a witness before flicking his wand in the girl's direction and muttered an incantation under his breath. Task complete he smiled vindictively as pandemonium unfolded around him.

Hermione's first indication of trouble was her broomstick suddenly rocketed up towards her. As it clipped her arm painfully it snagged onto her robes and tugged at them insistently. Enchanted as they were for strength the robes held intact, but without any give they acted as a tether between the witch and the rapidly climbing broom, dragging her up into the air. Her scream echoed throughout the courtyard, drawing every eye towards her struggling form as it slowly rose up above the schools parapets. Desperately she tugged at her robes with her free arm hoping to untangle them to no avail. Soon fear began to overwhelm her as the broom ascended passed the schools tallest tower cutting off her escape attempts. The onlookers seemed paralyzed by the hysteria that was rapidly spreading through them, allowing the girl to climb higher and higher unimpeded, eve. Thinking fast Alex vaulted off of her broom, landing heavily on the ground. After a moment to steady herself she gripped her wand firmly and concentrated, desperately trying to remember the incantation to a spell she had only ever read about briefly. Pushing away muddling influence of her own growing panic she tore through her memories, discarding spell after spell, thought after thought. Floatation, levitation, body, momentum...Wait! Her wand snapped forward.

"Arresto Momentum!" she barked.

As if it had hit an invisible wall the broom jerked to a stop, jostling its unwilling passenger and drawing forth a yelp as the sudden stop bounced her about. For a heart stopping moment it looked as though she was going fall until her violent swinging subsided. She hung limply for a moment before grappling with her twisted robes as she worked to clamber up onto the wayward broom. With Hermione securely seated on the broom Alex gingerly lowered her to the ground with another wave of her wand, grunting slightly and stumbling backwards when the distraught girl torpedoed her in a hug. Meanwhile a relieved Daphne was busy sending dirty looks Malfoy's way; she knew he had something to do with this, his satisfied smirk made it obvious but she had no actual evidence for now. As the boy met her eyes she made sure to promise retribution with her look. Heaving an annoyed breath she turned to comfort her sobbing friend, making slow circles on her back.

Madam Hooch returned just in time to see Hermione lowered safely to the ground and wasted no time in ending the class prematurely, sending Hermione and her friends off to the infirmary to calm down and have her bruised shoulder seen to. All in all it had been nothing short of a catastrophe, with Hermione traumatised and less thrilled about flying than ever. After being fussed over by the school nurse Madam Pomfrey Hermione rushed back to her dorm, ignoring her friend's attempts to talk and crawled into bed, eager to let unconsciousness wash away her terror for now.

* * *

"Hermione... Hermione wake up."

The aforementioned girl groaned and buried herself deeper into her sheets as something poked and prodded at her. From her assailants perspective she made for an adorable sight, curled up tightly around the pillow that she clutched, hair splayed over most of her bed like a second blanket. A tickling soon began at her vulnerable sides, building until it became irresistible and the girl snapped awake; gasping for breath as her limbs flailed in a bid to escape her tormentor.

"Gotcha!" crowed her mysterious assailant, who's oddly familiar voice she couldn't quite place this soon after waking up against her will.

Struggling free of her tangled bedclothes she opened her eyes blearily, blinking rapidly to clear her fuzz vision. Her view focused on a tangle of black hair and green eyes filled with amusement. Her friend was dressed in a warm sweater and loose track pants, clothing suited for strenuous activity rather than relaxation. She felt the beginnings of annoyance take root upon recognising the girl in front of her; of course she would do something like this, especially after yesterday. She couldn't help but growl irritably.

"You do realise that people are trying to sleep?" she asked caustically, her frown deepening as the other girl's grin only brightened.

"Sleep? Nope I only see someone who isn't getting up fast enough," Alex replied.

"Look closer. Besides after yesterday I just want to relax a little."

"You can mope later, come on Daph's waiting."

"And where exactly are we going at-" she consulted her bedside clock before continuing. "...four o'clock in the morning?"

"Outside," the girl replied evasively.

"Outside...?"

"Look do you trust us?" she pleaded, pouting pathetically as somehow her eyes filled with the most incredibly watery and sad-Argh.

"Fine," Hermione muttered in defeat while casting about for a change of clothing.

Eventually a fully dressed Hermione allowed her friend to drag her bodily out of the common room and through the halls towards the castle gates. It was a route suspiciously similar to the one they had taken towards yesterday's debacle, yet no matter how she wheedled Alex refused to say anything about where they were going. Several confusing turns and shortcuts later they arrived in front of a non-descript door that lay near a side exit leading outside to the courtyard. Standing next to the door was their other friend, Daphne, her hands on hips in disapproval and tapping her foot impatiently. Spotting their approach she met them half way and gave them both a scowl.

"What took you so long?" she demanded.

"Sorry sleepy here was playing hard to get," said Alex, elbowing the bushy haired girl next to her softly earning an indignant sniff.

"Prat," Hermione grumbled. "Little Ms Snarky here refused to tell me where we were going... Where are we exactly?"

"Storage closet," Daphne replied matter-of-factly. "The school keeps most of their practise brooms locked up in there."

It was all Hermione could do to stop herself from sputtering at what she knew was coming. If they thought that she was going to go anywhere near one of those death-traps they had another thing coming. Regardless a red face and trembling fists gave away her barely contained anger prompting Daphne to head it off.

"Look we know you're not... keen on the idea but hear us out. It's a Ministry and school requirement so you'll have to learn eventually and it'll be just the three of us there. We'll teach you at whatever pace you feel comfortable with," she said soothingly.

"You can't seriously think that we'll get away with stealing school brooms to go joy riding do you?" Hermione retorted appalled at the flagrant disregard for the rules her friends were displaying. Alex winced at the girl's tone, obviously more convincing was needed.

"We're not stealing, we're just borrowing the brooms temporarily for the purpose they exist for; to practise flying," she replied, trying to mollify the increasingly irate girl. "Besides it's not like we aren't going to return them; no one will know they're missing, it's four o'clock in the morning."

Hermione was about to unleash a scathing analysis of everything that was wrong with that statement but thought better of it at the last minute. She had a lot in common with her two closest friends and if she knew them half as well as she thought then they weren't about to give up. No matter how much she resisted they would eventually find some way of dragging her along with them and it was bound to be more painful than simply giving in now. So for the second time in less than an hour she found herself sighing in resignation, her head shaking in despair at the stupidity of what she was about to agree to.

"Fine... I give up, let's just get this farce over with," she uttered with not a small amount of exasperation.

Much to the girl's collective surprise the closet was rather easy to open, with no extra security besides a rudimentary locking charm. It sort of made sense though, given that most first years wouldn't likely know any unlocking charms and older students would own their own brooms. Who would want to use those dodgy things when a far superior alternative existed? Nevertheless the door was soon opened and the closet raided for three practise brooms and the accompanying equipment.

"How did you even find that place?" Hermione enquired, curious as to what foul means they used.

"Daph put the screws on the Twins," Alex remarked casually, shrugging off Daphne's suddenly immensely pleased and very frightening look.

Brooms in tow the blonde lead the group off towards the empty Quidditch pitch, creeping along the paths until they reached the isolated corner of the grounds where it was situated. Despite her reservations Hermione had to admit it was a good choice of venue; it was highly unlikely someone was going to spot them and the field provided plenty of space to move around.

To help overcome her fear of heights Daphne first took her up on her broom, making sure to climb at a smooth and ponderous rate so as to not terrify the already stressed girl. As they rose over the tops of the stands Daphne coaxed her to open her eyes, wincing slightly as a pair of arms constricted around her ribs. When minutes passed by with nothing terrible happened Hermione's panic diminished a little allowing her to relax her death grip around the blonde's torso peek carefully around. As horrifying as it was there was an odd beauty to being up in the air, the world around you seemed almost inconsequential and yet never out of reach. It was several more minutes before she felt ready to tackle flying on her lonesome.

True to their word Alex and Daphne let her progress at her own pace. While they provided pointers and were always there whenever she started to grow frustrated, they never placed any pressure on her. As a result initially slow and hesitant steps soon accelerated and it wasn't very long before she could summon the broom to her hand whenever she wanted and was declared ready for her first attempt at flight. Kicking off from the ground, broom clenched firmly in white knuckles, she hovered unsteadily just over an arm's length above the grass before quickly losing her nerve and dipping back down. Despite her racing heart it was another step forward and she couldn't stop the spike of elation from showing on her face. Several tries later and her confidence was growing as she drifted slowly but firmly about, learning the ins and outs of turning. Finally as dawn was approaching Hermione could be found tracing smooth arcs around the pitch, zigzagging through an imaginary obstacle course and even trying out a dive or too.

It was nothing short of amazing to her how much of a difference just being alone with her friends made. There would be no one to judge her for her weakness, no one to exploit them and hurt her. Here there were only those that she trusted and as much as it surprised her, she felt she could trust them implicitly with all of herself. The results spoke for themselves; here she was, in the middle of the air on this flimsy twig and yet she had a smile on her face, enjoying the feeling of the wind in her hair. Sure she would always have a healthy...respect for heights but she wouldn't be helpless if she ever needed to reach them.

Floating above the pitch the three friends watched as the sun dawned over the Forbidden Forest, wreathing the treetops in a mesmerising halo. Basking in the first light their thoughts were drawn back to their first week at Hogwarts; the excitement, the ordeals, the sheer magic of the world. Through the ups and downs, thick and thin, they were poised to take the world by storm. Most of all though they thought about each other and how amazing it was to have discovered kindred spirits out in the world, when they had all but given up hope. Despite that a wall had existed around them throughout the week and as much as they had bonded over the week, they had never shared their innermost feelings and fears until now. Curious as it was this one act of rebellion and solidarity had exposed vulnerability, but in doing so it had solidified their bonds and broken through their walls to allow for something truly special. In the end they had escaped from the loneliness and found best friends waiting on the other side.

* * *

**A/N:**

So there we are the first real chapter that wasn't setup. What do you guys think, did it turn out ok?

I re-wrote this chapter a few times and originally it covered a lot more ground plot wise, but it got a bit long and I noticed that sections were pretty shallow so I cut it. I don't know if I fleshed it out completely though, the end especially feels a little rushed but I'm not sure what else I want to do with it for now. Actually in re-writing so many sections it may have come off a little disjointed so if you feel like a bit could use work please tell me and I'll try and correct it.


	5. Chapter 4 – First years need not apply

**Chapter 4 – First years need not apply**

For centuries Quidditch had been a staple of life at Hogwarts. Each game was an event which brought together the entire house to cheer for their team, regardless of different backgrounds or personalities. Most importantly it was a safety valve to let off friction between the houses and avoid open violence in the halls. Overtime it evolved into more than simply a school sport, gathering traction outside of the schools population until it wasn't just Hogwarts' Quidditch tournament; it was the nations. What's more the high stakes environment that surrounded the games were a prime breeding ground for professional and even national level players of the future, attracting scouts from all over the globe.

Of course that high profile fed back to the roots of the game and so the teams were playing not only for house pride, but doing so on an international stage. Any humiliation lingered on far beyond any players schooling; travelling throughout magical Europe and onwards. Victory was rewarded with adulation and opportunity for greater things, while defeat would brand their house for as long as public memory held, which thankfully was not particularly long. Such was the fate of Gryffindor's team, which had seen crushing defeats at the hands of Slytherin three years in a row. With a new year starting and the finest Seeker the house had seen for decades, Charlie Weasley, graduated it seemed likely to all that history would repeat one more time.

Regardless the team refused to give up hope. Though battered and low on morale they were determined to fight on, if only to spite Slytherin house. As a result the team had planned to start early and hard, getting in as much training as possible before their first game. An agreement was reached between the team and their Head of House that they would retain everyone who had returned from last year's team in an attempt to preserve the experience and the camaraderie they had built. Thus they were in need of just two new players to fill their roster. To that end Oliver Wood, the team's captain, had decided to hold tryouts on the very first Sunday of the year. With their pride on the line it was an imperative that they built the team right, any internal conflict and the tournament was already over.

So the entire team had gathered early on Saturday morning to prepare for the tryouts and work out what sort of people they were looking for. They met Professor McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor house, at the main gates before heading towards the Quidditch pitch. They spent the long walk cracking jokes at their rival's expense while Fred and George, the team's Beaters, kept them in stitches with their antics. Despite being tasked with hauling their equipment in a worn trunk, they still managed to carry off their trademark absurd and energetic routine flawlessly. Even the Professor couldn't resist the odd smile; nevertheless duty was her creed so she gave them more than their fair share of disapproving frowns when they got a little too carried away.

Just as they were set to enter onto the pitch they heard a set of voices carrying through the morning air and down to the bowels of the entrance tunnel, followed soon after by alarmed shouting. Concerned, the team rushed out of the tunnel and out into the open only to witness a distinctly feminine figure corkscrew up into the sky. They traced an arc through their flight, inverting at the apex and hanging upside-down for several gut wrenching moments before pitching down and plummeting earthwards in a spiralling dive. With hair whipping around wildly and wind lashing at the girl's face, as she accelerated downwards until it seemed that collision was inevitable. At the last moment, cool as you like, they somehow pulled up out of the death spiral and levelled off barely two feet above the grass. Her loud whoop in defiance of death, windswept raven locks and startling green eyes identified her unmistakeably as Alexandria Potter, Gryffindor's resident hero. Of course with her present that could only mean that her two closest friends were around here somewhere. Right they were for moments later the hereto unnoticed pair floated down to the girl looking none too pleased at her antics.

While the two first years were chewing out their still grinning friend for her act of stupidity the audience were just breaking free of their amazed stupor. Amongst the team gears were already turning in their head and fantasies of the team that could be ran rampant. The girl obviously had some serious skill with a broom and more importantly lacked any fear of death, traits that would make for just the kind of player they were looking for. All ground to a halt upon remembering that she was just a first year. Although there was nothing explicitly in the rules that stopped them from playing for their house, they couldn't own a broom which was more than reason enough really. Without their own broom they would be stuck using the frankly pathetic school supply, at which point they would be hopelessly outmatched by anyone with a halfway decent one. The ever observant twins however noticed something that brought up repressed memories of blonde haired and terrifying witches, setting their mental hamsters off at double speed. Ideas were rare enough in life and it had always been their policy to seize upon any they had, especially when it struck both of them at once. Wordlessly they lowered the trunk they carried between them to the ground, throwing open the latches while ignoring the wary looks the others gave them. Their captain was less than impressed and thought better than to let them go unchecked.

"What are you jokers up to?" he demanded, wearing a frown that seemed so out of place on his normally boyish face.

"Take a look at their brooms." "We think you'll notice something interesting," they replied without sparing him a glance as they continued to rummage through the trunk in search of their gear.

Sure enough upon closer inspection the girl was seated on the telltale bent shaft and patchwork straws of just such a broom. If she could pull of manoeuvres like that on those death traps, what could she do on something that actually flew straight? Renewed excitement bubbled to the surface; if they could convince McGonagall to let the girl tryout then they might just have a chance this year. It seemed the twins had a plan and as much as the captain was leery of the two, especially as George pulled out his Beater's bludgeon and took a few practice swings, their plans usually worked. The Professor on the other hand was trying to fight down the headache she could feel growing; the audacity those girls had to break into the stores and go for a joy ride was beyond astounding. A yelp and a dull thud from behind her caught her attention just as she was about to reprimand the still unaware trio and she turned about just in time for a small projectile to scream passed, a hairs width from the tip of her nose.

* * *

For Alexandria Potter the day had started off incredibly well, she had engaged in mischief, helped a friend and she could safely call the two she was with her best friends. In a moment that she would remember for the rest of her life she had formed bonds that she had been yearning for since she could talk. Sadly things were about to become a little more complicated. Having floated up to meet her descending friends she received a punch in the arm from Daphne and a disapproving glare from Hermione, both of which did nothing to wipe the grin from her face. It was heart-warming to know that they cared enough to get violent.

"That was incredibly dumb you know," Hermione reprimanded, huffing in annoyance. "Honestly, showing off like a stupid boy!"

"Remember Potter, if you screw up and get hurt we'll have to take you to the nurse and tell them everything," Daphne drawled, hoping to appeal to her 'other' sense of self preservation. "I for one don't want to get expelled on the first week."

Sufficiently cowed, Alex threw up her hands and conceded defeat.

"Alright alright, I won't do it again," she laughed throatily. "...today"

Despite her attempts at humour fell horribly flat, it at least nipped the growing argument in the bud. All in all the training session had gone extremely well in her opinion, with Hermione now more than competent on a broom and odds were she would be able to graduate from flying class in the next session. With their mission accomplished they could spend the last few moments before breakfast having fun.

Just as she was going to propose a race her danger sense kicked into full gear, screaming at her to move. In one fluid motion she threw her broom into a barrel roll, narrowly avoiding a small metal ball that would have cut through her otherwise. Instinctively she tucked in low over her broom and took off after it; at the speed it was travelling at it would be a menace to anything in its path unless she stopped it. The familiar sensation of the wind blasting against her face was both exhilarating and calming at the same time. Much of her childhood had been spent up in the air with her father, uncle and godfather playing tag or learning the ropes of their beloved Quidditch. It represented periods of unlimited freedom in her otherwise sheltered life, moments where the whole world was hers to take and she could go wherever she pleased. Now she would take any excuse to get up into the air, even if only for a few stolen minutes.

As she closed in and reached out to grab it the ball sprang to life, veering off sudden and accelerating rapidly away. From this Alex deduced that she was chasing a rogue practice snitch, designed to help Seekers train without wasting the expensive genuine articles. In a true game of Quidditch the golden snitch was enchanted to bond permanently to the first person that touched it, giving the referees and easy way of determining who had caught it first should the need arise. Of course this meant that for every game a new snitch had to be made, something that would be ruinously extravagant merely for practice. Instead the practise snitch mimicked the behaviour of a true snitch but was crafted out of humble iron rather than gold. They also tended to have the unfortunate habit of not stopping for anything, even if they were about to hit something or someone and most spells were useless against it. The prevailing theory held that when the practice snitch was first invented a little of the bludger's ornery character bled over by accident and was never corrected. Why they were still used so regularly was a mystery though Alex liked to attribute it to the wizarding world's dislike of change; in any case it added a flavour of danger to Quidditch practice. Indeed this particular snitch led Alex on a merry chase around the pitch, weaving around the towers heedless of any threat they might pose to a human being.

Meanwhile the livid pair of Daphne and Hermione had noticed the audience on the pitch and flew down to give them a piece of their mind. It wasn't long before they were able to pick out the distinctive red hair of the Weasley twins and deduce the probable source of the missile that had nearly maimed their friend. As Hermione was about to unleash her anger upon the hapless duo her eyes passed over the stern face of Professor McGonagall near the back of the group, pulling her up short. Unfortunately Daphne did not make the same observation and so wasted no time in letting loose with a fiery tirade.

"Where the two of you dropped on your collective head?" she growled, eyes flashing dangerously. "Because I swear it's like the two of you share a quarter of a mangled brain."

She was about to continue ripping into the Weasleys when the Professor cleared her throat and making her presence known. Daphne promptly turned a curious shade of red and rapidly deflated as she turned stiffly to face the unamused woman. McGonagall raised a questioning eyebrow at the girl's uncharacteristic outburst; normally she carried herself with a great deal more poise and an aloof demeanour, so it was certainly interesting to see the girl so... protective of someone.

"P-Professor I di-didn't see you there," Daphne stammered, furiously trying to think her way out of her predicament.

"While I don't approve of your...language Ms Greengrass, I find myself thinking along similar lines, Mr and Mr Weasley," the Professor said, fighting down a twinge of amusement at the girl's contrite expression. Yes most uncharacteristic indeed. "What were the two of you thinking? Or were you even thinking at all, you could have seriously injured that girl."

For their part the Twins didn't seem the least bit repentant as one, Fred from what Daphne could tell, never took his eyes of the aerial acrobatics occurring behind them. The other, George probably, at least had the decency of turning to face the collective displeasure currently aimed towards them. He ducked his head slightly in acknowledgement of the Professor's questions but was continually distracted by his brother's cheers and the skill on display.

"Sorry Professor, but we knew it was never going to hit her. She's way too good for that," he replied, lacking the Twin's usual stereo and interplay.

"Regardless of whether you deem someone capable of avoiding deadly projectiles, it is entirely unacceptable to launch one at them. That'll be 10 points from Gryffindor for your reckless endangerment of a fellow student and I'm afraid I'll be seeing the two of you in detention for the next week. Know that I'll be bringing this up with your mother as well."

"Wait, wait. No need to be so hasty Professor," Fred cut in fearfully, cringing at the mention of his mother. "If you'll take a look up there you'll see exactly why we did it." He gestured grandly towards Alex's distant form as she pursued the illusive snitch.

McGonagall turned her attention to the chase just in time to witness the girl completely invert in a loop on the tail of the ball. With each passing moment she drew closer and closer, her speed reaching frightening levels. At that point the world had closed into a tunnel around Alex, centred on her dull grey target. As the wind was biting at her eyes and drowning out any and all sound around her it was by pure instinct that she aimed her outstretched hand towards the snitch. With her vision impaired however she was not able to spot that the snitch was leading her on a collision course with the tower until it was almost too late. Shutting down the momentary surge of panic she reacted quickly by pulling up as hard as she could, keeping on the tail of snitch along the way. Moments before she hit the tower walls she leapt forward, throwing her towards the snitch and grasping it firmly with her hand while the other snatched at her broom. She just barely managed to keep a hold of her broom as she crested the top of the tower, taking several stumbling steps across the roof before vaulting back onto her broom on the other side and letting out a triumphant cry.

It was on the return trip that she finally caught on to the audience that had gathered in the pitch, picking out the imposing figure and tall pointed hat of her head of house and wincing in anticipation of the lectures she knew were coming. The crowd was stunned by the girl's blatant disregard for her own safety, though that did little to stop the Quidditch team from cheering her on as she came in for a landing. Once on the ground she received yet another punch in the shoulder from Daphne for being 'too dumb to live,' while Hermione simply shook her head in exasperation and checked her over for injuries. Alex was rather startled to recognise the house team as they rushed up to congratulate her for her flying and cracking a few light jokes at her expense. The levity lasted only until Fred elbowed Wood to go ahead with the final step in the plan and drop the bombshell.

"That was some fancy flying there Potter, it's been a while since I've seen it's like," he spoke evenly, casting a nervous glance towards the Professor. "The boys and I've been wondering if you'd consider trying out for the team this year? Merlin knows we could use someone with your kind of talent."

Aside from a little playful heckling from his two Chasers for calling them boys, the Captains offer was met with enthusiasm from the team, with smiles of encouragement all around. On the other hand the Professor looked ready to protest, it would be highly irregular if not unheard of for a first year to play on the house team. Regardless of the girl's obvious skill, she lacked a suitable broom and the rules were clear on that situation. Fred and George had noticed however and moved to head her off.

"What's the harm in letting her tryout?"

"It's not like it's against the rules for her to play."

"Besides you saw how good she was, we need someone like her to keep the slimy snakes off the cup."

"No offense Daphne."

"You're one of the good ones."

"And she was on one of those duff school brooms."

"She could use one of them for the tryouts, or even the game."

"She'd probably still wipe the floor with the pathetic lot we've got."

"You think anyone would be willing to take bets dear brother?"

"It might be wort-"

"Enough," McGonagall bellowed putting a stop to the increasingly off-track discussion, even as used to their rapid fire byplay as she was she could feel her migraine growing worse by the second. By now she had long since forgotten to reprimand the three girls for 'borrowing' school property without permission in favour of trying desperately to contain this situation. If she let the girl try then it would set a precedent that might have others attempt to emulate her and the potential fallout was worrying. Conversely the two did have a point; the team desperately needed someone with Charlie's capabilities and from what she had seen of her house's pool of talent it was unlikely they'd find someone else.

Again this situation wasn't unheard of; over a century ago a first year had played for Ravenclaw, although in this case it was only after a severe accident had grounded several of the team's players forcing them to scrounge for replacements. An exception had been made at the time in order to keep the season alive. The question was whether another one should be made now. While the Professor was mulling over the decision Alex was conspicuously silent on the matter. Her best friends couldn't help but notice the lack of a reaction from the girl, who looked overwhelmed but oddly withdrawn. Given her love of flying and her competence with the game they would have thought she would be ecstatic at the prospect of playing. Before either could investigate their friend's odd behaviour the Professor made spoke up.

"Ms Potter I am not sure whether congratulations are in order, you've given me a bigger headache than even your parent's were able to, and on your first week too," she muttered, smiling thinly. "I am willing to allow you to try out for the position of Seeker on the team but only on the condition that you maintain your grades throughout the year and please for the sake of everyone's sanity refrain from jumping off your broom in midair.

"So what do you say Potter?" asked Wood, almost pleading. "Tryouts are tomorrow afternoon starting at twelve."

Whatever reaction they were expecting it was certainly not what happened next. The girl in question seemed almost reticent, a look of contemplation plastered onto her face. It was a massive departure from the vivacious and outspoken girl most knew her as. The silence stretched on as the team's anticipation built, they needed her on the team desperately, until finally Alex's stony expression softened into one of confusion.

"I-uh I'll think about it. Sorry I have to go," she mumbled reluctantly, brushing passed the crowd and making a run for the exit leaving the others to stare after her in bewilderment.

* * *

It was nearing dinner time when Daphne found Alex sitting on top of the astronomy tower, staring out at the Forbidden Forest and still wearing that same introspective expression from the pitch. With the breeze teasing her already dishevelled hair and her legs dangling over the edge of the roof she was like melancholy personified. Daphne watched her for a little while, trying to figure out what was eating at her, before giving up and approaching slowly. It was a testament to how deeply Alex's thoughts ran when the normally hyper alert girl hadn't noticed her presence until she sat down beside her, eyes flickering briefly towards her then returning to the trees. The blonde hesitated for a moment, waiting to see if her friend would object to her company before bumping shoulders affectionately.

"Care to share what's got you down Potter?" Daphne's voice was uncertain, not having much experience with sharing emotions.

"I'm- there's nothing wrong Daph. I feel fine," came the sour reply, lacking any conviction.

"Please what do you take me for, a Malfoy?" scoffed Daphne, slightly offended that her friend had even tried that line. "Look I don't expect you to spill out your entire life story, but Hermione and I are worried."

She was met with a long drawn out silence before her friend heaved a sigh of resignation and lay back onto the roof. "Sorry... all of the crap; the stares, the whispers...Snape, all of it just piled up and up. And then on the pitch, when all of them were staring at me with so much... expectation, it all came down."

"I don't know if I can deal with anymore people scrutinizing everything I do and if I join the team... it'll just get worse," she finished dejectedly.

"The way I see it if they were dumb enough to make some cult around you then they can go sod off," Daphne spat vehemently. She'd always disliked how much people pried into her friend's life but if it had gotten this bad then she truly despised them for it. Her voice softened before continuing. "I won't tell you to join the team, only that whatever you do should be because you want to and not because you feel the need to hide from those berks."

Alex gave her a half smile in return, some of her usual cheer returning. "Thanks Daphne and I promise I won't tell everyone in England you called them berks."

"You'd better not!" was all the blonde managed before they burst into a fit of giggles.

"So... you won't mind when I trounce Slytherin's team?" asked Alex, her tone light but laced with just enough vulnerability for Daphne to know there was more to the question than at first glance.

Rather than let herself mull over the question to much the Slytherin chose to follow her instincts. "Getting a little ahead of yourself there aren't you Potter?" she quipped. "But in all seriousness I'd be more upset if you held back over some misplaced guilt because of me."

Alex subtly relaxed, the sudden release of a held breath giving Daphne all she needed to confirm her suspicions. It seemed she wasn't the only one who had insecurities when it came to relationships.

"Hey, I have a question, I thought you loved Quidditch?"

"Well it's more that I'll take any excuse I can get to go flying, Quidditch is fun but I can live without it." The dark haired girl gave her a conspiratorial wink. "Let's be honest, the game doesn't actually make much sense."

"So you'll actually think about it?" Daphne managed amidst chuckles.

"I'll think about it," replied Alex smiling genuinely.

* * *

The next day saw Daphne and Hermione back at the Quidditch pitch along with what seemed like half of Gryffindor house waiting for the tryouts to begin. At first the blonde had received a hostile reception when several boys moved to bar her entry into the stadium, fearing that she was a spy for Slytherin. What dark secrets of Gryffindor house lay waiting to be unearthed in an open tryout was a mystery to the two girls, though they readied themselves to make a scene. In the end it proved unnecessary when Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, the team's Chasers, intervened after recognising the two from the previous morning's excitement. After thoroughly castigating the would-be thugs they bundled the two inside and chatted the two up, taking their attendance as a good sign that Alex was coming. Eventually the team captain called them back down to the locker rooms to get ready, forcing them to leave somewhat disappointed that the girl in question had yet to show herself. Now without the older pair to keep them distracted the two soon became restless, as the wait dragged on. Hermione was still miffed at having gone the entirely wrong direction during last night's search for Alex, which only made her own irritation at the other girl's tardiness worse.

"Do you think she's coming?" asked the brunette, who was watching the entrance intently.

Daphne scanned through the crowd trying to pick out the telltale black hair of the absent witch. "I don't know, but I have a feeling..."

They weren't the only ones waiting for the girl, as the designated start time drew closer the Twins sent enquiring looks towards them every so often, although all the girl's could do was shrug in response. With nothing better to do Daphne spent the last few minutes before noon catching Hermione up on her conversation with their other best friend, hoping that doing so would help her pick up the subtleties of the exchange. Ultimately it proved fruitless as neither she nor Hermione were able to glean any new insights as to what Alex would do. With just a minute to go and hope fading fast amongst the team; a familiar figure came sprinting through the entrance with a rickety old broom clutched in hand, nearly tripping as she slid to a stop in front of a grinning Fred.

"I'm... ha ha... here," she puffed, hands on knees trying to catch her breath. "I'm not late am I?"

"You cut it close Potter but you made it. Now hurry up and join the others, it's time to start," ordered Oliver, pointing to the group that had gathered at the edge of the field.

The Chasers were the first to go and collectively made up the majority of the hopefuls in the stadium. Oliver left Angelina and Alicia in charge of their first test; which had them split into teams of three and play mock games against each other while the team observed. After each team had played they moved on to what the Twin's gleefully called 'Target Practice' wherein they cheerfully sent bludgers flying towards the hapless bunch, whoever evaded for the longest scored the highest. Lastly their individual skills were examined by giving them five attempts at scoring against the team's Keeper, Oliver. Though few were able to get passed it was more important that they learned from each failure and make the next shot closer than the last. In the end only three of the fourteen contenders were able to score a goal; the leader, a blonde second year named Katie Bell, getting three out of the five in. Unsurprisingly Katie was selected as Chaser, having dominated each of the trials with just the right combination of teamwork, agility and skill.

Then it was down to the Seekers. In total only four boys were competing against Alex for the spot, though given that the position demanded extreme skill as well having the highest accident rate in the game it wasn't that much of a surprise. The moment Alex stood up a wave of excitement spread through the audience. As the youngest person to have tried out at Hogwarts for over a century, let alone being the famed destroyer of dark wizards she had captured their imagination. To many she was a storybook hero battling challenges far greater than her stature would otherwise permit. And from their perspective the first year was practically miniscule in comparison to the fifth through seventh years she was competing against. Another group held a contrary opinion; as far as they were concerned the girl was an attention seeking show off, strutting about and using their fame to have rules bent in their favour. They were just as excited as the rest, but were eager to see her brought down a few pegs. In any case the hotly anticipated Seeker trials were opened by an animated crowd.

The first test was a straightforward test of their agility; they needed to pull off a set of manoeuvres in the correct order while being timed. Alex breezed through without any trouble, setting the second fastest time of the group despite her agonisingly slow broom. Her superior skill at the acrobatics allowed her to maintain much more speed through the sharp turns and inversions. At the end of her run she had spotted her two best friends sitting up in the stands cheering her on and she waved exuberantly back to them, seemingly back to her old self. The second trial demanded lightning reflexes, several balls were tossed into the air at random intervals and they were tasked with catching them before they hit the ground. Here the field was spread out much further, with two of the contenders failing to catch a single ball while Alex came in the middle with five out of seven catches. Her broom had shown its faults in the abrupt changes in direction that was demanded of it when two consecutive balls had been at opposite ends of the pitch from one another.

So it was that Alex came into the final test feeling uncertain about her chances of success. This time it would be a free-for-all battle for a practice snitch and with a five way duel it was guaranteed to be absolute chaos. This trial leveraged all of their skills in an attempt to out fly, out race and out muscle their opponents while avoiding getting themselves hurt. Initially Alex found herself in a difficult spot as the others utilized their size advantage to screen her out of the competition, leaving her scrambling desperately for an opening. Her moment came when the snitch pulled a sudden climb up into the clouds, almost disappearing before any of the others could react. Her lightning reflexes kicked in and she followed immediately; scanning for signs of her target as she burst out of the cloud layer, spotting it circling lazily in the distance before diving sharply as it noticed her. By the time the others had caught up it was almost too late, she had pulled in tight over her broom and shot off after the snitch, dropping into a dive after it. This time at least the catch was far less eventful as she merely reached out and snagged the capricious ball before pulling up and stopping in front of the captain, claiming victory.

With the trials over the team gathered together to discuss the results; inviting their newest Chaser over to join them. Despite winning the last trial her performance in the other two left Alex nervous of the day's outcome, something the long wait before the announcement of the winner only compounded. Up in the stands her friends were equally as unsure, both of them leaning forward with anticipation and Hermione kept her fingers crossed for extra luck. As each tense moment passed with no winner declared the crowd grew agitated, shuffling around and jostling for a better position. Order was barely maintained when some of the seventh years took charge and calmed the mob down. Finally after what looked like a heated debate within the team a decision was reached and Oliver broke their huddle, sending a grim look towards the five hopefuls. The candidates watched with baited breath as he slowly made his way back to them, several visibly trembling under the tension.

"I wanted to thank you for coming here today, it's given the team a lot to think about and we're super confident that we Gryffindor's have all the talent we could ever want." He paused briefly as the audience burst into cheers, swelling with house pride. "But I'm not going to sugar coat this, four of you are going to leave here disappointed. We picked the one we thought would be the best, not just now but for the future too. If you didn't make the team we might call you up to play reserve if someone is injured and I highly recommend that you try again next year."

"Anyway long story short congratulations Potter, the spot's yours."

And with that the roar of the crowd drowned out everything else he might have said.

* * *

**A/N:**

In my opinion this chapter came out far better than the last, without all of the second guessing and rewriting it flows more naturally. Only the first little section was originally part of the last chapter that I cut and I feel that this chunk is probably the weakest part. I certainly plan to revisit all of these early posts once I pick up some skill and get more comfortable with long prose like this.

I wanted to work on more emotional character interaction this chapter, building up to some of the heavier stuff that I have planned coming up. For that reason most of my time was spent on that relatively short bit in the middle set on the Astronomy tower. I noticed that a lot of emotional material in many other stories is very direct whereas much of this story is my attempt to convey ideas subtly and less directly. I don't know if that actually worked out, so please tell me if they feel incomplete.

So you'll probably notice that I glossed over the actual tryouts. I did this mostly because the outcome was basically a foregone conclusion, when has the Harry Potter analogue ever not made the team? Actually I had given a lot of thought into not having Alex play the game, because in all honesty the game makes no sense whatsoever. But ultimately I reversed that decision because it is a useful plot point to drive various conflicts etc and I have something planned in the future that revolves around several characters playing the game.


	6. Chapter 5 - A Black History

**Chapter 5 – A black history**

It was the Wednesday morning three days after the tryouts and Alex was still riding the high from making the team. Not even the prospect of double potions with Snape was enough to dampen her spirits as she practically bounced down to breakfast in the Hall. Around the room the reaction to her presence was as ever a mixed bag; some, especially amongst the older students, made sure that their displeasure at the 'upstart' first year was more than obvious, while the lower years seemed to be locked in a perpetual state of awe whenever she was around. In all honesty it was the later group's attitude that she found the most irritating, she had come to Hogwarts looking for freedom but thanks to all the stares and hushed whispers she felt like a caged animal. Luckily her mood was buoyed when she found her friends seated around the Gryffindor table engrossed in conversation, leaving them unaware of their surroundings. Just as she started to approach them a head of short, dark hair and brown eyes popped up and waved her over enthusiastically.

It was only on rare occasions that Alex got to spend much time with Tracey Davis; usually she preferred the relative anonymity of her friends amongst Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Though Tracey could be brash and a little vindictive over the last week these little experiences had helped her bond with the others in their mutual amusement. The two times she had joined the three of them in violating house sensibilities had been nothing short of a riot. Rather than dismiss the dirty looks that were sent their way as Daphne would, the shorter girl spent most of the time deliberately trying to get a rise out of the restless crowd, as she put it 'where else was she supposed to get her entertainment?' Her victim's could do nothing but flounder about while they were under the watchful eye of the Professors up at their table and thus they were treated to hilariously ineffectual threats and general grumbling.

"Hey look who's finally up and just in time too!" came the girl's sing-song greeting as Alex sat down at the table. "A little pixie's been spreading some juicy new rumours about you."

"Good morning to you too Tracey and yes I slept very well thanks, I'll take the muffin," Alex snarked back dryly.

"Yeah yeah, sorry I'm not the sultan of small talk but this is way too good," she griped, poking her tongue out at the other girl. "So get this, according to an inside source, whose identity I cannot in good consciousness reveal, Ravenclaw's team captain has lost his marbles and is terrified of our resident hero here."

"He's gone and pushed up their training schedule enough to give Wood a run for his money as far as obsessive goes. Apparently the team's been complaining endlessly about Potter this and Potter that."

And just like that she came crashing back down to earth.

"Perfect... Exactly what I needed right now," Alex muttered bitterly. How much more negative press was it possible to get in just two weeks?

A concerned look passed briefly over Hermione's face at her friend's dejected tone before softening into a grin as an idea came to her. "I wouldn't worry too much about it, if the team orders a hit out on you we'll protect you," she cut in.

"Besides that lot needs to harden up. They volunteered so anything that happens is purely their own fault," Daphne added with distaste, not quite sure what a 'hit' was but catching on to the implication quickly. "They'll get over it soon enough."

Alex perked up a bit; it seemed that she could always count on her best friends to understand her. It was still so foreign to her to have someone be so close to her that wasn't family, but she definitely could get used to it.

With that conversation shelved the rest of breakfast flew passed as they found themselves engrossed in more pleasant topics. As classes drew closer Alex focused on wolfing down the last of her food, only paying cursory attention to the surrounding chatter. So when an oddly shaped lump came crashing to a halt in front of her, scattering food and cutlery in all directions, she nearly jumped out of her seat. Closer inspection revealed that it was a long, oddly shaped package wrapped in crinkled brown parchment that tapered off into a point, attached to the side was a stack of letters of assorted colours. Most unusual of all however was the snowy white owl that had apparently delivered the package, its amber eyes were filled with a startling amount of intelligence as it stared at her expectantly. Picking up on the underlying demand in those eyes, she hesitantly offered up a small strip of bacon and receiving an approving bark and a gentle nip on the finger as the owl dug in.

"Is that a broom?" asked Hermione from behind her as she peered curiously.

"It looks like it, only one way to be sure though. Open it up," Daphne urged.

Giving the beautiful owl one last scratch under its beak Alex turned to the package and began tearing away the wrapping. With everyone's help it took only seconds to completely unwrap the bundle, unveiling a sleek shaft of polished wood, precision cut bristles and a burnished metal stirrup.

"Wow that's a Nimbus 2000, the fastest broom in the world," said Tracey in an awed tone. "I wonder who sent it to you."

Alex dug through the pile of wrappings and found the stack of letters that had come with the broom. She broke out into a bright smile as she quickly read the familiar cursive on the front envelope.

* * *

Two days earlier near the small town of Wallingford Lily Potter was pacing back and forth in the dining room of the old Potter manor, feeling conflicted; unsure of whether to be incredibly proud of, terrified for or just plain furious at her daughter. A pair of owl-borne letters had just been delivered over breakfast, one from her head of house; promptly informing them that Alex had joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team as their Seeker while the second came from the veritable horse's mouth. Her daughter had tried to build up to it and soften the blow, knowing her mother's dislike of Quidditch and just how dangerous it could be. Lily had unpleasant memories of broken bones and concussions being almost the norm amongst the team after a particularly nasty game in her fourth year. She had spent most of the time gushing about her new found friends and her first week away from home, with an emphasis on how well classes were going. But unfortunately for her Lily had opened McGonagall's letter first so all of the buttering up fell on deaf ears.

Don't get her wrong, she was absolutely delighted that Alex had formed such strong bonds with others her own age and looked forward to meeting them soon. Her daughter had had such a lonely childhood out of necessity, especially living near a Muggle town and going to school amongst them. Keeping to the statute of secrets while also hiding their existence away from the rest of magical Britain was hard on the girl, never being able to invite anyone over to play and her evasiveness when asked about her family had isolated her from her classmates. Her daughter had never let it defeat her though and had matured into such a vibrant young woman, something that Lily was eternally thankful for.

While Lily was slowly wearing a hole into the floor James was tinkering desperately with the coffee machine, placing all of his hopes on a good cup of hot chocolate being just the ticket to calming his wife down. In spite of its age, or perhaps because of it, Lily had insisted on bringing the centuries old house up to modern standards when they moved in; she sure as hell wasn't going to give up the convenience of central heating. It had been a nightmare trying to get electronics to work around the magic rich environment and a young Alex's frequent spates of unusually powerful accidental magic certainly didn't help matters but after years of work they'd even managed to get the internet working, albeit only in an isolated wing of the house. In the end though the house had turned into something special, a mix of traditional and contemporary that they had all fallen in love with, although at the rate things were going it might end up as just another pile of dust.

He cast another nervous glance over his shoulder towards his wife as the machine finally chugged into life and began to dispense the delicious cargo it had been holding hostage. James himself had been overjoyed that his daughter had joined his old team, not that unusual for a father. He had many fond memories of teaching her about brooms and she had grown into a damn fine flyer so he knew the team was in excellent hands. Topping off the hot chocolate with a few marshmallows that he found in the pantry James cautiously approached his wife, who was now standing before the French doors staring out into the surrounding woods. He held out the mug of steaming goodness under Lily's nose and watched on, amused as it twitched at the smell and grabbed hold of her undivided attention. He was less amused when she snatched it out of his hands and downed the entire thing in less than a second before thrusting it back towards him. Evidently she was more upset than he had originally anticipated.

James sighed deeply; this was something he had an unfortunate amount of experience with as they'd had countless similar arguments over the years. Almost a decade ago, on that Halloween night, they had promised themselves that they would always do what was best for their daughter even if that meant giving her a normal life. That much they agreed on, but it was how to go about it where the problems arose. Lily had always been the more protective of the two and at times could encroach on overprotective, while James was sometimes too reckless. They both accepted that Muggle schooling would be the first step, almost a dry run for the future, but the devil was in the details and neither would budge until it seemed that it would never happen. It was only Alex's bubbling excitement and the thought of crushing her that had finally broken them down, as ever they came back to that promise and knew that nothing else was worth breaking it. Years later, in the lead up to the Hogwarts letter they knew was coming, they'd once again they struggled to find some way to make it all work. Few realised that the strong front they had presented to the world when they resurfaced had been barely held together over the years by that one promise. It seemed that one last battle was need and James rallied himself to fight it.

It was at that moment that the fireplace roared into life, spitting out a plume of green fire that coalesced into the form of Sirius Black followed quickly by his friend Remus Lupin. Lupin was a tall, slightly ragged looking man with a bushy moustache and green eyes topped with short brown hair. The first thing Sirius saw as he exited the Floo network was a decidedly unhappy Lily and a harried, yet oddly excited looking James. As usual he lacked any sort of verbal filter and felt the pressing need to comment on the situation.

"James! Lily! How's life treating you this fine morning? I thought I might pop over and see if either of you would be interested in a spot of lunch over in London, though it seems I've come at a bad moment. Is it 'that' time again Lily?"

"Black, I am _this_ close to neutering you like the dog you are," Lily spat, stabbing her finger towards the appropriate region for emphasis. "Sit down, shut up and don't get in the way."

Stunned by how viciously the redhead had torn him apart Sirius wisely chose to do as she said, bidding a hasty retreat behind the other men. Meanwhile Remus was more perplexed at her behaviour, she had always had a bit of a temper but rarely did it ever get this bad.

"James, what's going on?" he asked with a voice filled with concern.

Rather than respond James handed him an envelope bearing the seal of Hogwarts and motioned for him to read it. A brief skim though left him chuckling happily; it seemed the little firebrand was already making waves. But it went a long way to explain what had Lily up in arms. Sirius soon snapped out of his sulking in curiosity and he braved the distraught redheads firing line long enough for him to snatch the paper from Lupin's hand, earning an annoyed snort that was promptly ignored as he got to the good part.

"Well damn, she's going to make us look bad at this rate," he crowed excitedly. "We need to celebrate, c'mon you lot there's a bottle of firewhiskey with our names on it over at the Cauldron."

"My daughter is not going anywhere near that game," Lily interjected with a growl, levelling her death glare at the men.

James moved over to his wife, holding out his hand beseechingly. "Lily..."

"No James Potter, our daughter will not get herself hurt playing some stupid game because you idiots want to relive your glory days," she ground out from clenched teeth, her anger turning to desperation. For ten years they had hid away and protected Alex from the world but now there were so many ways for her to go and get herself killed and they had absolutely no control. She was trembling now, slowly loosing the fight to stay together. She knew she was being irrational but it might be the last chance she had to protect her daughter and she was determined to make it count. James meanwhile had drawn close enough to tentatively wrap his arms around her smaller frame while her inner turmoil had distracted her, trying to convey all of his love and understanding. He knew exactly what she was feeling; those same emotions were battling it out in him as well. But he had long ago accepted that it would one day be Alex's responsibility to protect herself and that day had arrived. It killed him to see his wife go through that same struggle but as much as he wished he could bare that for her, he knew it was something that she had to accept on her own terms.

"I know love, I know. It's so hard to let go after so long," he whispered soothingly, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head, ready to invoke their vow one last time. "But we made a promise back then and she's grown up. It's time to make good on it."

She stiffened for a moment before softening in his arms, seemingly sapped of energy as her shoulders sagged until she was almost completely supporting herself on his arms.

"Alex is going to do great things Lily," Remus added. "She is going to change the world, if we let her."

"More like take it by the balls and-" Sirius scoffed before cutting off under his friends collective glare, but it did exactly what he wanted and eased some of the tension in the room.

Lily sighed in resignation, the last of the fight in her crumbling away, but she found the strength to push away from her husband's support and meet his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, I was...being irrational and you're right James, it's her choice," she murmured weakly, her gaze wavering. She hesitated for a moment, gathering her will and firmly steadying herself, before continuing with a new found conviction. "But only if she doesn't use one of those death-traps they call a practice broom. I don't care about any blasted rule that says otherwise, you are going to buy a proper one for her."

James broke into a smile and closed the gap between them, sweeping her back into his arms.

"Well that went well," Sirius remarked brightly to no one in particular.

* * *

Hours later James, Sirius and Remus stepped into the daily rush at Diagon Alley, intent on carrying out Lily's demands. With the furore around his family still going strong, even after a week, James wore a hooded cloak to conceal his identity. There first stop was Gringotts bank to acquire the Galleons they needed, and they would need a fair bit too as they planned on spoiling Alex a little. Oh it helped that it would also benefit their old house team and give them the edge they'd need to maintain house pride but it was mostly unrelated...mostly. As they approached the imposing building they noticed that the crowd had thickened and come to a complete stop in a ring around the stairs leading up to the pair of ornate doors that led in. A cordon of figures dressed in brown trench coats held the milling throng at bay whiles several others poked around the building, as if looking for something.

"Aurors? What are they doing here?" asked Sirius incredulously. Britain's magical law enforcement organisation was never called out for anything short of a major crime and never in such massive numbers. The last time so many had been deployed... well he didn't want to think about that lest the memories come back again.

"There's been a robbery at Gringotts!" cried an onlooker in the crowd, stunning the three men.

"Gringotts robbed? You must be joking," Lupin scoffed. The idea was absurd, it was supposed to be the most secure place in magical Britain, and many suspected the world. If it had been breached the Goblins would be out for blood, their entire reputation would be shattered and they'd start feeling it in the wallet.

"It's Merlin's own truth, it's even on the front page of this morning's Prophet," the man replied, shoving a copy of said newspaper into Lupin's hands.

His jaw dropped as the front page of the worn paper did indeed confirm his story; somehow, someway the bank had been robbed. He passed the paper around while mulling the details around in his head. Curiously nothing was stolen according to the paper, or at least nothing that the Goblins were willing to disclose and the vault that looked like the main target had been emptied just the day before. What's worse was that the Aurors were keeping tight lipped about any details surrounding the case, no matter how distantly related. No obvious suspects, no plausible motives and targeting a vault that hadn't been touched in nearly a century. It all sounded like one of those bad mystery novels Lily had lent him, far too fanciful for reality.

"Well bugger, there goes all of our plans," James muttered after getting over his stunned amazement. The bank would be closed down for at least a few more hours, cutting them off from their own money for a good while. At least there was a story big enough to get his family off the front page for a day, maybe now it could all die down a little?

"Right then, what say we go get a drink at the Cauldron?" Sirius proposed to his friends, receiving nods all around. "It's been a hell of a day and that whiskey is calling to me."

Only minutes later they were seated at a secluded booth in the Leaky Cauldron, out of sight of all of the other patrons, nursing snifters filled with amber whiskey as they talked. The privacy allowed James to pull down his hood which he did, letting out a sigh of relief. They had started off chatting about various mundane happenings in their lives but were inevitably drawn back to the scene they had just witnessed.

"I haven't seen so many Aurors in one place since... well ten years ago," said Lupin, lost in thought.

"I wouldn't know," Sirius quipped. "If you recall Dumbledore stunned me without so much as a warning."

"Only because you were about to charge headfirst into whatever Voldemort had waiting," Lupin retorted lightly. His expression darkened as he recalled what happened, that night had been worse than hell for all of them.

* * *

The entire Order had felt the wards go down at Godric's Hollow like a cold breeze down their spines and immediately panic began to set in. The few members who were at the Longbottom manor, the Order's headquarters, had been paralyzed at first, not knowing what to do and lacking enough manpower to launch any sort of relief effort. It had taken a few seconds for Sirius to shake off his initial shock before instincts kicked in and good sense was kicked out as he tried to apparated to his friends. Remus was damn near ready to follow him until his better judgement stopped him, just in time to see Dumbledore send a stunner flying towards his friend. The room erupted into chaos as everyone seemed to draw their wands and point it at one another, they all knew what breaching the fidelius charm took; a traitor. For a long while now the Order had suspected that there was at least one leak in their midst, the Death Eaters had proven that they were privy to secrets that only an Order member should know. But rooting out the traitors and spies had proved enormously difficult due to the diffuse nature of their group, with people constantly away on missions and passing in and out of headquarters. In the end it had taken Dumbledore's force of will to prevent the fire fight that was about to break out, but the paranoia would come back to plague them for a long time afterwards. As James and Lily's best friends he and Sirius were the prime suspects in a lot of people's mind and, although those who were actually in on the secret knew otherwise, the near hysterical atmosphere trumped any rational thinking. Not even the Chief Warlock was entirely immune to the effect and in an attempt to prevent a mutiny had Sirius's unconscious form placed under guard. The delay had ended up costing them however and it wasn't until more than half an hour after the alarm had been raised that Remus and the rest of the reinforcements had arrived at what remained of the house to find it empty. It had almost broken him but he reined in his tears in an effort to stave off collapse.

In the aftermath Remus had angrily confronted the Order's leader, futilely demanding answers that he knew the old man had but would not give. Partly it was because of the suspicious circumstances surrounding the attack; Voldemort almost never bothered himself with small prey and as much as it pained him to admit that was what they all were, foot soldiers. There were more players in this increasingly complex game than he could keep a track of. But also because it was the only thing he could do to stop himself from tearing off on a futile hunt for Peter Pettigrew, who he now knew for certain was the traitor. All he was left with was his anger, pent up over the years of suspicion and discrimination due to his lycanthropy, so he had let it all out at Dumbledore and the old man had simply accepted it, he got no answers that night but it was enough to keep him together. Throughout it all he never let himself shed a tear.

Hours later the numbness had set in; all of the shame, the regret and sorrow were still there but none of the passion and vigour that would have given them any meaning. The rest of the Order faded into the background and all sense of duty was long gone, somehow he found his way back to his flat and just collapsed. The next morning had brought its own tragedies; the Prophet proclaimed victory over the Dark Lord across its front page and told the story of the little girl who had done it all. On the surface the author had carried the joy of victory through every bit of their writing but on deeper inspection it was a vastly different story that they had told. They told of the folly of the people, who had allowed the scourge of the Death Eaters to live on amongst them, who had placed the burden of defending their own nation on the shoulders of a child. They spoke of how, against all odds she had won the war, but for all of them and not herself. She was the Girl Who 'Won' and that was the most tragic of ironies. Most of all they feared that this fact would be lost in the exuberance of the time, that soon it would simply be a title attached to this mythical figure, her identity lost and the true cost of victory forgotten. He would have cried, had he been able to.

Aimlessly he had returned to the Order only to find Sirius still under guard and just now stirring. It was left to him to inform the man that his best friends and his goddaughter were dead. He wanted desperately to run away, anything to keep from destroying the man in front of him. But they were the last Marauders and he deserved the truth. He watched dispassionately as his friend's face contorted in emotion; first disbelief which soon turned into rage and ultimately drained away to leave soul crushing grief. Had he been able to watch his own reaction he would have found it eerily familiar. Then the tears came, the first almost invisible against pale skin but it was followed by many more. It was a battering ram to Remus' soul, ripping apart the wall he had built around his emotion. He cried, finally, letting out everything he had left in that moment, sharing his anguish and accepting his friend's in return. They were the last Marauders, compatriots until the end. They would survive, somehow.

* * *

Slowly the days and weeks passed and their lives went on. Some days they would feel better and on others they would relapse back into depression. All around them the world was rebuilding, shops were reopening and for the first time in years children felt safe enough to play in the streets of Diagon Alley. But the war wasn't quite over yet, many of the Dark Lord's known followers and hidden agents remained at large and though they knew that they would never truly root out all his influence the Order went on a crusade to capture as many as they could. Little did they know back then how fruitless their efforts would be. Money spoke loudly in the halls of the Wizengamot and so it was that the powers that be allowed Death Eater after Death Eater, murderer after murderer walk free under the flimsiest of excuses. It became a bitter joke amongst those who had fought them that the secret to life, the universe and everything was a knut in the right hands and the Imperius curse. Sirius and Remus had watched the entire affair from afar, their mix of despondency and extreme aggression in the face of these criminals was considered a liability and they grew ever more distant every time a criminal who had been involved in the Potter's deaths went free. As the days turned into months the loss of their closest friends would continue to dominate their existence and despite the efforts of the other Order members they slipped further and further away from them all. Eventually they lost contact altogether and for almost a year no one knew what had become of the two.

Not that the Order itself wasn't also going through its own turmoil. The suspicion that had built up in the ranks during the war, the cat and mouse hunt for traitors and spies in the latter days would eventually do what Voldemort never could and shatter the order. As the members went their separate ways they would be forever scarred by their involvement. Some tried to return to a normal life and a few even succeeded but most would never truly fit into the society they had help save. Thus ended the first Order of the Phoenix with a whimper and, though they were the last truly effective force to stand against the darkness, their efforts would be for the most part forgotten in the coming years.

It would be more than a year before life took on any semblance of normality for Sirius and Remus and only through the efforts of Andromeda Tonks, Sirius's first cousin. She was a tall and imposing woman with light brown hair worn long and deep brown eyes. As one with a noble upbringing she carried herself with an aristocratic grace that commanded rather than blended with the crowd. Andromeda had first started looking for her cousin when Gringotts and the Ministry began hounding her about the Black Family inheritance. With his brother Regulus dead Sirius was the last surviving male heir of the House of Black and thus supposed to inherit control over all of its assets. With him missing however all of it lay in a legal limbo that was nothing but a bureaucratic nightmare for all parties involved. So they had decided to conscript the help of someone who they thought would be able to find him, which unfortunately had turned out to be her. She had resisted at first of course, with an eight year old daughter, Nymphadora, to care for and a career as a healer at St Mungo's hospital she had far too much on her plate as it stood. Ultimately she had underestimated just how persistent people could get when large sums of money were involved and had been worn down enough to eventually give in.

She had first found the two when they, in their infinite addled wisdom, had decided to start drinking away their problems. By that point they had all but isolated themselves in their respective homes only coming out to meet every so often at a random bar in the muggle world and drown themselves with cheap liquor. Though kind and caring as she was on the outside she was also a force of nature, as the two men soon found out. As much as the politicians and bankers had hounded her she decided to return the favour onto the two, never letting up and constantly keeping them in line by any means necessary. She was rather pleased with the result as it only took three weeks for them to cave into her demands and start to shape up. Oh the recovery process was long and many a time she'd needed to 'reinforce' their commitment, but slowly they began to open up to others again. She was even able to convince Sirius to take up the Black Family mantle, though that had proved to be almost as difficult as getting him sober. Despite all of the trouble she was in truth grateful that she had agreed to it as it had helped her to bond with her cousin, both as the black sheep of their family and as fellow survivors of the war. Unfortunately it also meant that her daughter got to spend much more time with her wayward Uncle and pick up a couple of his less desirable traits. At least Remus was responsible enough to balance that out to some extent and her husband Ted certainly seemed to like the level-headed man. Another consequence of her new family dynamic was being welcomed back into the House of Black, something that she had mixed feelings about. She could understand the politics behind it, preventing her sister Narcissa, and therefore her husband Lucius, from getting a hold of the family's vast resources should something happen to its head, but it also meant that her family was now a legitimate target of the power games that people played.

* * *

Finally on what was to have been Alexandria's third birthday they had all gathered together to go to the ruins of the old Potter manor and pay their respects to the dead. Long ago the Marauders had made a promise to James' parents that they would always look out for and protect one another. They had failed and though they were trying to move on with their life one final thing was left to do, beg forgiveness. It was a sombre group that arrived in the woods that surrounded the manor, peering around curiously at the land that no one had laid eyes on for years. The thick canopy of old growth blacked out much of the sky, letting only a few scattered rays of light through to the ground and barely illuminating the old cobble path that led towards the ruins. Further down the path was an old brick and mortar wall, infiltrated by creepers of moss and ivy while an ornate iron gate barred the way. They indicated the extent of the old wards that once surrounded the manor, laid down centuries ago and empowered by the presence of the magical beings that once called the grounds home. But they had long since died out after being abandoned for the better part of a decade, allowing the group to pass through unhindered. Had anyone been on alert they may have gotten their first clue that something was not as it seemed for the gate opened with barely a creak, its hinges newly oiled and its bars freshly cleaned. As it stood however they were all lost in memories of the fallen and thus overlooked the subtle clues.

As they neared the heart of the woods, where the manor was once situated, Remus froze as he heard a strange noise in the woods and motioned for the others to do the same. He drew his wand, ignoring the odd looks he was getting and simply gestured for them to listen. It wasn't long until the others could hear it too, a high pitched cry along with the crunch of twigs and dead leaves getting closer and closer. Reflexes learned from the war kicked in and they all drew their wands, save for little Nymphadora who was not quite old enough for one, and waited. The sound echoed around the woods, bouncing off branches and rocks until it was impossible to tell where it was coming from. So they were all startled when a little girl burst out of the foliage, laughing and hollering as she sprinted through the undergrowth, her raven black hair fluttering wildly in the draft. As soon as her eyes, and Remus couldn't help but notice how green they were, locked onto the party they widened in alarm and she skidded to a halt. Recognition and disbelief warred for control of his mind; what he was seeing wasn't possible, she was supposed to be dead. Denial, confusion, joy and hope thrashed about, leaving him paralyzed and near to collapsing when all he wanted to do was ask how. But he never got the chance.

"Alex where are you? You're going to get lost if you run too far," a voice called out, having gone unnoticed by the shaken party. Remus stiffened, he knew that voice.

Moments later another two figures walked out onto the road, this time a man and a woman. The man was tall, with short and messy black hair and warm blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with hidden laughter. The woman was unmistakeable, her fiery red hair worn in waves that reached her shoulders and shockingly green eyes. The woman noticed the group first and hastily scooped the little girl up into her arms protectively. Andromeda collapsed in a dead faint as recognition set in, barely being caught by her husband, not that either of the Marauders noticed, being completely fixated on the two ghosts before them. Time seemed to stand still, as they stared and were in turn stared back at by the man and woman, when no one seemed to have the strength to move. Finally with great force of will Sirius tore himself out of his stupor, his expression unreadable as he approached the man.

"Sirius..." the man croaked, voice faltering under the pressure of his emotions. "It's good to-" he cut off when a fist connected with his jaw, throwing him backwards with a painful thud.

"Daddy!" cried the girl, fear and an undercurrent of anger lacing her voice. As he turned back to the girl the Marauder felt an odd burning sensation on his arm and glancing down he saw flames licking at his sleeves. He didn't have the time to register anything before an invisible force ploughed into his chest and tossed him like a ragdoll.

* * *

"I still can't believe you got thrown around by a three year old girl," Remus chortled into his glass while James was still doubled over with laughter. Sirius could only glower at the two, unable to say anything in his own defence.

"Yeah yeah, you laugh now but that hurt like hell back then," he grumbled pathetically.

Eventually the mood sobered up as the darker memories took the forefront again. It hadn't been easy trying to resume their friendship, James had deeply hurt them and though they understood his reasons, it still rocked what they had believed to be an unshakeable bond of trust. But theirs was a friendship that was not so easily broken and so over the months they had slowly rebuilt that trust and found a new normal. They were a family again.

"Those were some bad times, weren't they?" asked James, smiling sadly.

"The worst," Remus agreed hoarsely.

"But it was worth it in the end, wasn't it?" said Sirius with a fond smile. "Because of her."

"Yeah, all for that first smile," he replied with a grin.

"A toast, to the greatest girl in the world," Sirius cheered. "May she always be there to kick sorry old arses into gear!"

"To Alex!" they chorused, raising their glasses with their spirits restored.

* * *

It was nearing the end of the day when Gringotts finally reopened its doors, after the Aurors had left with no further clues as to the identity of the thief. With money in hand the Marauders headed off towards Quality Quidditch Supplies, Diagon Alley's premier source of Quidditch paraphernalia. As they walked down the wide street in high spirits, after clearing their heads at the bar, a commotion drew their attention to a small one storey shop off to the side of the road. They watched on as a man burst out of the door and scrambled for cover, his coat covered in wood shavings and bits of hay. He was quickly followed by a snowy owl which made several passes around the cowering man, as if about to dive-bomb him, before abruptly turning and flying towards the bemused Marauders. Sirius ducked out of the way as the owl streaked passed and began to circle James' head, barking insistently at the confused wizard.

"I think you've been adopted James," Remus drawled with an amused quirk of his moustache.

"Take the damn thing, please!" the shop owner begged, flinching whenever the owl came closer. "Free of charge, I'll even throw in a year's worth of supplies and a cage, just please get that demon away from me."

Well, Lily did want Alex to write more often and she'd need an owl at Hogwarts eventually, so that did kill two birds with one stone. Plus it would help get him back into his wife's good graces and he knew his daughter would adore the rather strong willed bird. He held out his arm and let the owl land, its claws digging into his coat sleeves gently.

"Ok you've got a deal," he said with a smile, it seemed luck was on his side today.

After the owner hurriedly gathered together the promised supplies they got back to their task with James in an even better mood than before. He was going to make his beautiful wife happy; there was a Nimbus 2000 with his daughter's name on it and she was going to use it to beat Slytherin up and down the pitch. Which reminded him; he needed to find out when her first game was, he definitely wasn't going to miss it.

* * *

**A/N: **

Hello! So this is update is far later than I would like but real life came and slapped me around a little so all I can say is sorry. Anyway with any luck my schedule will steady itself a little and I can get more stuff out faster.

As for the chapter, it is sort of an interlude between the set up chapters before hand and the major plot that I'm going to start in the next couple of chapters. I aimed to improve on my portrayal of emotion with this bit and I tried to play around a bit with the tone of the story near the end. I'm not sure how well I was able to connect the three different time periods at the end and I feel that some of the events are a little too co


End file.
